Psycho-Morphology

Psycho-Morphology

            I stand outside the crowded scene,

            While slowly it draws me in, cradles me,

            Waiting horses chomp and snort, the hunting falcons preen,

            And men sell cheese and potent wine to errant Knights

                                                    a-gleam.

5           But wait, my emerald-green eye is a fool,

            I espy no sword of gold, encrusted with jewels,

            It's a tall straight tree, the pine of Yule,

            Spreading its boughs, hoar-frosted and cool.

            And yet once again I find I am wrong,

10          For here I see a man full young and strong,

            With his bow he rides, of Mother Earth his song,

            As blood brothers do they and all men belong.

            Now here Sol drops behind the forest proud,

            And far off I hear a lone wolf's howl,

15          But tomorrow I'll return to this grassy green mound,

            To draw pictures for myself floating by in the clouds.

                                                                                                                        -Brian K. Eddy

                                          Nov. 29, 1991

      Imagination is a wonderful thing, and just like any other talent, if we don't exercise it then we lose that ability. The simple joys are often the best.