The Knight

He came to town on horse back,
to rid the place himself,
of every sort of evil one
those different than himself;

But just before arriving,
his horse tripped, and he fell;
he hit his head; one nice big bump;
his memory now not well;

"familiar" is but far from him,
his home: a distant past,
and present factors occupy
perceptions place at last,

No thoughts to disturb silence
no plot, no story line,
he saw the place just as it was
without a "self" entwined;

The knight removed his armor,
it was too hot to wear,
his lance as well, he threw away
for it's weight he could not bear;

He freed his horse from slavery
and bid him well: be gone,
And happiness over took him
And his thoughts became but Song;

Where ere he looked, the dance of life,
played out a melody,
and he could only watch the dance
for the Song he knew was he.

Copyright 2008, Donald Chandonnet