Monday, February 9, 2009

Frank Horne (b.1899)

I am trying
to learn to walk again...
all tensed and trembling 
I try so hard, so hard...

Not like the headlong patter
of new and anxious feet
or the vigorous flailing of the water
by young swimmer
a new element 
into submission...
It is more like 
a timorous Lazarus
to take up the bed
on which he died...

I know I will walk again
into your healing
outstretched arms
in answer 
to your tender command...

I have been lost
and fallen
in the dark underbrush
but I will arise
and walk
and find the path
at your soft command.

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