Talk to me of horses,
the young man says,
thin locks of blonde matted
on a sweaty brow, flashes of blue
that fade as eyes succumb
to weariness, the constant
whoosh, whoosh of respirator.
Talk to me of horses;
the world is losing its grip
and I have no cares for
the weather or car mechanics,
but I dream of horses
and I am feeling so emotional,
help me understand.
So I come to his bedside,
wait for moments of lucidity
ponder the implications
of his questions, wrestle with
my own inadequacies –
I am merely student here.
And we discuss horses –
the power of their bodies,
their beauty and grace,
their relationship to people –
decide they are ferrymen
transporting souls across worlds –
an explanation that satisfies, then
I am seeing things,Β he strains
embarrassed even in these final hours
to describe what seems inconceivable –
betweenΒ sleep and awake – figures grey
and frightening that hover
over my bed likeΒ body snatchers…
A chills runs over me, as if icy
fingers have caressed my skin,
and I shudder despite myself,
scramble to maintain calm,
wonder aloud if it is not just fear
projecting grey into light –
clouding his vision.
My timing is off the next day,
arrive too late to see him pass,
find his mother waiting to receive me,
with a message from her son, my kin,
says that it makes no sense to her,
but he assured her I’d understand.
“You were right about the visions,”
he’d said; “there was nothing to fear.”
I smile through my sorrow –
ever the teacher that one,
now dead at twenty-one –
“Oh, and one more thing – could you
talk to me of horses.”
(Today’s prompt for NaPoWriMo is to write about the mysterious and magical. Β This poem is dedicated to my cousin Tyler, whose aspirations were to be a physicist, but for whom life had another fate. Β He taught me so much.)
Probably one of my favourite reads yet. I loved this.
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I visited your blog and I can see why. Thanks for your kind words.
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Wow. This is beautiful.
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Thank you.
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A very moving poem V.J. I don’t have any real affinity with horses but they are majestic creatures and I can understand how people fall in love with them. It always amazes me that the native Americans never had them until the Spanish arrived in the 16th century. Interesting to learn from your comment how people often dream of horses at the end of their life. Glad I found this one. I’m in permanent catch up mode! Have a lovely weekend. Sun is shining here in SW Wales UK π
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Oh! You are in such a beautiful part of the world. Love Wales! Thanks for the comments. Enjoy your day!
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It’s been a good one π
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How beautiful
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Thank you, Deb.
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Oh, I would love to have a kind cousin who would speak to me of horses, and visions, and maybe even irises when I am exhausted on my death bed. This poem really touched me V.J.
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Thank you, LuAnne. Sharing such intimate (and sorrow filled) times with someone is such a gift.
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I never thought of horses from a life and death perspective. Very interesting.
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It is actually common for people at end of life to dream of horses.
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A very beautiful and powerful piece. Nicely done!
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Thank you. I look forward to reading more of your work.
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Very beautifully written. And thank you for liking my post.
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Thank you, Jaya, and you are welcome.
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Stunning. And so sad. But also comforting. Thank you for opening up and sharing such a poignant experience x
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It’s unnatural to lose a child – very sad. The three weeks we spent together at the end of his life were very special. Thanks for your thoughts.
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I am so glad you were right about the visions … and so glad also you were there to talk with him about the power of their bodies, their beauty and grace. Whether you lived these moments or not, they are haunting and beautifully told.
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Thanks Heide. I did live these moments, many moons about – but it’s one of those things that stays firmly planted in the heart. He was so young, and bright, and I was studying dream work and meditation and so he invited me to take the journey with him.
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How sad that he died so young … but how privileged he was to have you there to listen, and to accompany him as far as you could on that last journey. Just as *i* feel privileged to have “met” you through WordPress! Your writing is beautiful, full of soul, and always thought-provoking. I imagine some of it is deeply personal for you, but I’m immensely grateful you’re willing to share it.
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It was very sad, but the privilege was mine. He taught me so, and for many years after I volunteered with the dying. I really appreciate your support, Heide. Writing is such a therapeutic tool, and I used to keep it to myself, but at almost 60, I have decided it is time to share – so others know they are not alone.
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“… so others know they are not alone.” Yes! I forgot to mention that in my comment. You’re touching on some issues that we seldom discuss in our society but that are both universal and important. There are a couple of your posts especially that have made me think, “Ah, so this happens to other people too!” β and that is so reassuring! So … please keep up the wonderful work, and thank you one more time. xx
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Beautiful post.
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Thanks Jazz. I’m enjoying the NaPoWriMo challenges.
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