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Free
by Janet Granger

It is describing the difference
between
the bouncy, clownish trot and
the smooth, brilliant gallop
to one who has never
ridden.

Running clear over the fields, the sands, the red earth out
on the back of two tons of thought,
out to the edge where you
jump,
out into the blue dome of ecstasy, free
from the bondage of sanity’s gravity,
a moment of grace,

or fall into the deep, dark canyon, free--
falling to crash on the rocks below,
no reins to hold back the
fast descent into
madness.

With pen or string or paint,
it is an unfettered gait felt by some,
understood by some,
and,
for others,
a mere ride,
a moment’s passing.




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Document last modified on: 07/25/1997

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