You crawled into my heart

fell asleep in there

and I have been dreaming of you

ever since.

~Gemma Troy

there is this allowing that happens when we find our way together….

inquiry for today~ who will you rely on today?

how we play together

The old man hobbles down the road

toward the monastery gate,

rests on a roadside stone,

hears clip-clopping of hooves approach

and his faithful companion arrive.

 

The horse nuzzles Columba’s shoulder,

shudders all down his white length

eyes glisten round and brown,

great teardrops pool and drop

sounding like rainfall.

 

Columba rests his forehead 

against the horse’s broad skull, 

closes his eyes and each imagines

the other, galloping together across 

heather and buttercups.

 

The horse knows his dear friend 

will soon be leaving and mourns 

this coming loss, his hoof 

scrapes the ground, tries to write 

a word of goodbye,

 

then takes wildflowers in his teeth, 

extends them to the saint, as if to say 

his life was full of beauty and color, 

but the petals are already wilting

in the summer sun.

 

The wisdom of the old sages rings,

“remember you will die” and on another day 

this would prompt Columba to celebrate 

the gift of a new morning, but today 

death is as close as the horse’s warm nostrils,

 

he knows everything must 

come to an end, even this love,

Columba rests there a long while

breathing in scent of fur and fields,

lets his cloak be soaked with tears.

 ~Christine Valters Paintner