The Gift- a poem
By Tony DeLorger © 2011
Bound I am to this our fractious world,
prone to ride it bare-backed and vulnerable.
Seeking not to tame the beast,
but rather live through it with open eyes.
Five score and seven years of thrashing,
and still the bruises remain.
Intent to not be blinded by the show,
I cling to the strap relentlessly trying to vision the blur of life passing.
How weary I have been,
wanting to let go and suffer the consequence.
But my soul will not abide,
needing the nourishment of understanding.
So here I cling to life, ever vigilant,
hoping the beast will simply relent, find a green pasture.
How often I think it so, to be then wrenched back to the ride,
the beast more determined as ever to unseat me.
Sometimes I want to see the blur for what it is,
delve into its sweet perfection and experience.
But when I do its clarity is confused,
its reality layered too deeply to conceive.
I cling for the sake of me, what I can accomplish,
my vague visions of some essence and truth.
I cling for the sake of living unlived,
that I may miss a second of this calamity called life,
this irreplaceable gift of experience.