waking Poem by Aonghas MacNeacail

waking



the horse's back like waves in motion
in the dreams of those who hear it
rider of the darkest night who's
raising thunder from hard earth

you who cannot see what happens
you who cannot see what happens
give imagination freedom
the horse must find its own true shape

when the phone is purring, purring
when you have no wish to answer
see the horse, its back in motion
on its way to wake the sun

tell the world that you were sleeping
that you had no time for dreaming
tell the world that you were riding
through the night to wake the sun

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