The old bull stands in the arena.
Under the morning ash sky.
Bleeding and tired.
Eyes deep and wild.
Heavy breathing, streams of mist.
Shaky on his feet.
confused by the colours and sounds.
When a white bird lands on his back.
It’s beauty and light blinds the arena.
The bird whispers to the tired old bull.
“Take a slow waltz with me into a new day”
The bull closes his eyes and feels for the first time.
Worried no more