• Ollie Horsfall

Mastery of Self

I mastered the air the day I was born, It was not hard, I took breath and became. As I grew I mastered the earth, Legs walked upon it and I was formed firm. Furthermore I took form liquescent, Swathed with fluid idea. Meticulous and malleable. Waves; my mood: as I bent to find dream.

I mastered thought when I could form words, Shapes like flowers; petals forming beauty. To pick and grasp and sniff and sneeze, To lose control, contorted by merit And a grimacing insecurity. I mastered thought to be told what to think. As it was meant to be.

I mastered temper when I lost grip, Of the blessed chalice that bore crafted lie. I looked to He, who made me master of my fate. Gave free will and took my liberty. When I grow weary; I shall master death, He that blinks and distorts my skill; Removing soft flesh from limb.

I mastered my spirit when I forgot it, Like ethereal silence it centres the mast; Of violent life; ebbing with time. A ship with no crew, floating on the tide, And the air that I mastered on the day which bore me. It guides my dream, makes form of my thought. This thing I master: to lose and forget.

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