Somewhere

Somewhere in time's Own Space
There must be some sweet pastured place
Where creeks sing on and tall trees grow
Some Paradise where horses go,
For by the love that guides my pen
I know great horses live again.

~ Stanley Harrison ~

photo: P. da Silva

Lord, I reckon I'm not much just by myself.
fail to do a lot of things I ought to do.
But when traisl are steep and passes are high,
Help me ride it straight the whole way through.
And when in the falling dusk I ge that final call,
I don ot care how many flowers they send.
Above all else, the happiest trail would be
for You to say to me, "Let's ride, my friend.
Amen".

~ Roy Rogers ~

In memoriam

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain,
when you wake in morning hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet
birds circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.

~ Indian Prayer ~

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

~ Old Irish Blessing ~

photo: P. da Silva

I'll lend you for a little while

My grandest foal, He said,
for you to love while she's alive
and mourn for when she's dead.
It may be one or twenty years,
or days or months, you see.
But, will you, till I take her back,
Take care of her for me?
She'll bring her charms to gladden you,
and should her stay be brief,
you'll have treasured memories
to bring solace in your grief.

I cannot promise she will stay,
since all from earth return.
But, there are lessons taught on earth
I want this foal to learn.

I've looked the wide world over
in my search for teachers true.
And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes
with trust I have selected you.

Now will you give her your total love,
nor think the labor vain,
nor hate me when I come
to take her back again?

I know you'll give her tenderness
and love will bloom each day.
And for the happiness you've known
forever-grateful stay.

But should I come and call for her
much sooner than you'd planned,
You'll brave the bitter grief that comes
and someday understand.

Author unknown

Last Gift

She looked to me, eyes beseeching.
A tired soul, not quite reaching.
Her time had come to move along,
To ease her pain I must be strong.
A loyal friend, a quiet ride,
Who always showed a gentler side,
The time had come to say good bye,
To let her go, and let her fly.
Her youth was gone; she could not soar,
Her body aged, her health so poor.
A final gift had I to share,
A quiet death with love and care.

Autumn Mann

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