Of Divine Feet
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
The truest God would make most horses wear
Those manes of gold that stallions and their colts
Deserve. These all and phillies—and each mare—
Would glare with gold from eyes, would send out bolts
Of pure gold flames before them in their fields.
This highest heaven’s herd would race in white.
When charging legs leap peaks, each gold hoof yields
Gold splinters known as sparks and at this height
The new religion makes white pelts more pure
Than waters of the first of rivers held
In crystals made of quartz whose banks abjure
False scriptures’ smells, impurities expelled.
These horses of eternity would greet
As everlasting days and dawns might meet.
~ Phillip Whidden
