eclipse Posted October 13, 2014 Share Posted October 13, 2014 They lower my coffin into the ground, I rise carriedaway by the wind horse in search of a new incarnation,Clouds form to shape a face-the mourners distant cry'sare matched by those of a mother, I am ready to beborn, her heartbeat echoes that of the horse, she diesgiving birth. I feel the breath of the wind horse ashe takes her away. Years later I watch wild horsesshaking themselves dry and see the face of my motherin the clouds reflected on a lake. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dr_con Posted October 16, 2014 Share Posted October 16, 2014 A surreal reflection on incarnation and myth. Quite enjoyed the picture this painted. Juris Quote thegateless.org Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dcmarti1 Posted October 27, 2014 Share Posted October 27, 2014 Surreal IS the correct word. The intro to the old TV series "Night Gallery" flashed in my head, but this a far more tempered tale than they would have had. Enjoyed it, too, like Juris. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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