Caricamento in corso...


The grass has grown and dried.
Children have grown and sprouted wings.
My auburn head turned to gray.
Dreams have flown away
Many seasons ago.
My horses wrestle their reigns
From my tired hands.
They long to run and roam.
I sit here, tethered to a rock
That would not budge, would not roll.
Where my horses are taking my dreams
With them I can not go.
I find my knife and the courage
To cut my ties,
Catch my roan,
Pull my weight on his back,
Bury my hands in his mane,
Kick his sides, yell his name,
Dare the grass wind to race.
My herd and my dreams up ahead,
Almost out of sight...
But with courage, luck, and wind at my back
I might just catch on.
Laughter filling my lungs,
Tears in my eyes.
Tears of joy from the feeling of flight
When I’m finally free
From dead weight
Anchoring me to one place,
Free to spread my wings
And chase my dreams.
© Olga Gavrilovskiy 2013

This piece is autobiographical; the children, the horses, the rock will only make complete sense if I were to divulge my life history here, but if I do so the poem will lose it's beauty, it's mystery. My only hope is that the imagery I used here is universal enough that many would be able to relate to this place, where I reside emotionally nowadays.

children, dreams freedom, hopelessness, horses, wind,

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