Once a Paladin
Hear me read
the
poem as
an MP3 file.
Once a paladin
Rode into
mountains
Seeking himself
Among barren stones.
He was a
spring
Covered by fountains,
Or an immortal elf
In a dungeon of
bones.
Long he rode weary
Through high mountain passes
And
deep, lonely canyons
Untouched by the sun.
Long he rode
dreary
'Mid snow-covered masses,
His dreams for companions,
And
still he rode on.
Yet he found nothing
That matched his
ambition
To see himself naked
Of what was not him:
That
singular something
Beyond all condition,
The soul he'd
forsaken
For life's daily din.
He came on a hermit
Praying in
shadow,
Unmoving for hours
In the early spring cold;
His hut
near a summit
In a high mountain meadow
Covered with
flowers,
Red, white, and gold.
Finally moving,
He turned
towards the paladin,
Blank as a snowfield,
Silent as
space;
The soul simply choosing
To pass its brief time
within,
Steadfastly sealed
Behind its locked face.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.
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