Sweeping Arrow

Center weight wrought balanced on the feather

Tantalizing wind daring on the compass
Becoming the center piece looking on
Musing on the archer’s ammunition fate

With all paths to this canopied garden
Who is to say what murderous flight this takes
Into a lover’s heart pierced to a tree
Held eternal by the amber running slow

Of the winds of the mountains sweeping down
Into the valleys they will lift up new air
Lifting the arrows tail mid flight and calm
Rocks pulling the wooden dart to the firm ground

And of the violet mountains and trees
There is one everlasting thought inside freed
Uncountable knowledge lies at the door
If only a bow to make the arrow soar.

Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.