He Is Falcon

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Poems
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A parable, of sorts, in rhyme. This is one of those poems that will not let the writer finish it. Every time it is reviewed by the writer, it seems to want to be changed. So, here is the third and latest version; hopefully the last. --- Other versions are:"On the 'marrow" & "As Far As He Can See". These two are published online @ "Booksie", titled as "The Two Version Poem".

Submitted: February 06, 2017

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Content

Submitted: February 06, 2017

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He stands on the edge

Of windy cliffs

Where images

And shadows seldom blend,

He closed his eyes

To looks beyond the sunrise

Beyond the whispers

And Mariah, the wind.

 

Then he stretched himself

As if he was to fly

And began to call

As if calling to a friend.

So it is

That he will see the spirits

That live within trees

And at the rivers bend.

 

Every morning

He comes to sun himself

But at noon

He seeks a shady place.

In the evening

There are dreams in the night

That seems to drift

Through fleeting time and space.

 

Tomorrow

He'll return to the wind

And stand

Where no-other dares to stand.

 He'll watch the specters

That he sees in the sky

Past the trees

And beyond the rivers bend.

 

They say he's crazed

Perhaps possessed

By the Demon

VenDeursend

But they don't know

How the Spirits move within him

When he hears the singing of the Angles

In the wind.

 

He knows his time

Will soon come upon him

And what is broken

Will no-longer need to mend,

Then the path that he has sought

Will lie before him

Past those trees

And beyond the rivers bend.

 

So when you see the Spirit

Of the Falcon

Tell him tales

That he has never heard.

Do not mock those visions

That he's seen

For the vision was revealed

By the Word.

 

He is Falcon

For lack of a better name

He is broken

But has sought the grace to mend.

He will fly

Once-more on the 'morrow,

Past those trees

And beyond the rivers end.

 

 

02-03-2017

 


© Copyright 2017 JE Falcon. All rights reserved.

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