December 29, 2008

The Goat


Autumn it was,

Freshly fallen leaves,

The path adorned,

A bright orange plumage.

Walking solitary,

Homeward bound,

When I came across,

A kid, wounded.


The offspring of a goat.

It was,

I lifted it gently,

Heard its cry,

Saw the sorrow in its eye,

Instantly, I felt like its saviour,

It’s care-taker.

Now, to my journey home,

I wasn’t alone.


Days went by,

The poor creature,

I nourished, fed, healed.

We had a bond.

A bond, which made me forget

Many others...

A bond strongly sealed.


Its eyes never lied,

They showed gratefulness,

It knew I had helped, I know

It liked being cared for,

It was glad it was mine.

But, it had to grow.


Soon, the day dawned,

In a cold winter,

The kid became,

A Goat,

His horns, his fur, his hoofs

In all their glory were born

I felt a cold ‘drift’,

I dismissed it,

Blamed it on the season,

I still clung on.


Until finally, I felt,

Horns piercing me,

Hoofs kicking hard...

And the once warm fur, now

A thick-skinned blanket,

That felt nothing.


I had to let go.

It was time to let go.

It was time,

For the Goat,

To go back to where,

It came from.

Not so long ago.


A better Goat it was,

It knew

Because of me,

But I learnt a lot more,

And I knew,

The better one...

Was me.

3 comments:

  1. Letting go is difficult, isn't it? And yet, as you so rightly said, we are better for that. Profound writing...

    ReplyDelete
  2. nice one san ! !

    i would like to know sometime how it comes, how these words flow through you (and through other natural ones). do share sometime, will be nice to see...

    ReplyDelete
  3. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

    ReplyDelete