There are certain mysteries destined to remain forever unsolved, reserved as but nourishment for the imagination.
Beauty’s Bequest By Odin Roark Some say We all have one An enigmatic wild stallion within Seeking sounds and symbols To become a tundra of words Its landscape of expression Here Time’s pace and rhythm Carried by nature’s patient breath Echo’s passion rides Between the canyons walls Of mind and heart Knowing well the joy Of unbridled passage Thought by many As a poet’s gift This tenuous control Of eager restlessness Seeks little repose Painfully aware The vanishing of a moment The eclipse of a thought Might recede into Infinite darkness The stallion often bolts For Taming forces are everywhere Incapable of recognizing the exquisite Ignorant of imagination unlimited The have-nots fight to fence in One’s galloping unfurled spirit Armies have trodden atop this soil Dynasties have horded such open sky wealth Yet efforts to make permanent captive This ambulant prerogative Find endurance undeniably present Some wonder… Why must that Deemed beautiful Inspiring Tenacious of will Remain so vulnerable? Yet For the stalwart Just as a rose Seeks perpetual awareness Between a book’s pages Beauty’s elegant passing Knows to embrace its powdery remains Riding atop eternity’s trade winds Levitating in perpetuity until… Tomorrow’s tomorrow Presents another sunrise Where light and color Moved by nature’s gentle breath Prepares shadow’s trace to encounter Saddled ugliness trying again to Bridle perfection’s grace in motion And so Poets continue to offer Beauty’s essence Privilege And ingenuous smile A magical state of mind Deserving indomitable freedom Hopefully never harnessed
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