When did Pegasus become convinced
that he was merely a plow horse,
simply a beast of burden,
weighted to the soil and mired in mud?
Who persuaded him that the tug
and tension at his shoulders
was not the sinews of eager pinions
from which magnificent wingspan
could be outstretched?
Who might lead him to the water
and only just then,
in the wonder of true reflection,
see his forgotten ailerons?
When could this memory arise
of unfurled feathers catching wind
and the vigorous pumping of brawn
by which even the numbed hooves
could know they had left the ground?
About the Poem
This poem was born out of deep disappointment both in myself and in a partner who was steadily letting me down. I was so eager to work things out that I surrendered more than my power to someone else but also my sense of self worth. I let the approval of a lover define the way I saw myself.
This poem is previously unpublished in print. This poem was finished February 18, 2009.