Perceptions

{{#ifeq: | | {{#ifeq: Justin S. (Whiteflame) | |

   {{#ifeq: Whiteflame | || 
     Author: Whiteflame  
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   {{#ifeq: Whiteflame | |
     Author: Justin S. (Whiteflame) |
     Author: Justin S. (Whiteflame)  
   }}
 }} |
 {{#ifeq: Justin S. (Whiteflame) | |
   {{#ifeq: Whiteflame | | Authors: ' | 
     Authors: Whiteflame 
   }} | 
   {{#ifeq: Whiteflame | |
     Authors: Justin S. (Whiteflame) |
     Author: Justin S. (Whiteflame) 
   }}
 }}

}} {{#if:| — see also [[:Category:{{{category}}}|other works by this author]]}}

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<poem> When I was free...

I stand with my head bowed low, And sniff the verdant grass, sweet, sublime, I bite off a blade, No sorrow for its loss, It tastes sweet, green, Blissful pasture, grazing,

A small fly lands upon my left ear, And buzzes, bathing in my sweat, obtrusive, unwelcome, I twitch my ear round, The bothersome guest quickly flees, Restored serenity, resting,

I stand with my head held aloft, And my ears tilted forward, stilled, silent, I watch intently, stoically, No threat to my kin, Grateful duty, listening,

My beloved comes from a meadow yonder, And nips my neck and hair, gently, trustingly, I nip her withers in turn, She embraces me, I her, Singular being, grooming,

I stand with my head hung low, And cultivate my surreal thoughts, rocking, swaying, I drift into dreamful sleep, No foresight to break peace, Grand calm, dreaming,

I wake in the morning, And stretch along my back, I buck and rear, Because I do, I am, living. </poem>

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