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.


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

  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...

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