A Moment, Realized
Life is a series of moments, flickering quickly,
soon forgotten as I hurtle myself
toward each new sensory and you, often
with me, eagerly round each bend,
traverse each hill, two souls adventuring
into seconds, minutes, hours. My youth
beats to the rhythm of your hooves,
your name caresses my lips each night
as I pray our connection lasts,
hope we learn to pause more often,
like this morning when you honored me
with your trust, your gentleness -
the moment I realized it is not I who offers up
the greater sacrifice, the greatest gift.
by Margaret Bednar, July 7, 2013
This if written for the "Imaginary Garden with Real Toad's Birthdays in July - The Sonneteers". Two poets are featured. Francesco Petrarch, a traditional sonnet with lots of rules. I fashioned mine after Pablo Neruda whose translated poetry into English is absent of rhyme and iambic meter - the translators for whatever reason did not take the time. What is left is the essence of the poem. For more information, click on the link.
Well, lazy me, I jumped all over the no rhyme, no rhythm route and I apologize as this probably isn't really a sonnet...
Isn't Oberon adorable sleeping like this? He is out all night as the days are so hot and often when we arrive he is napping in his stall (with fan on overhead). My girls have cuddled with him quite a few times - we joke he is like a big dog - he loves the scratching and petting, even gives kisses.