Horse Whisperer


The following is an homage to my husband, and the wonderful impact he had on my life. It’s also my first attempt at lyrics. My dear friend John has songified my words and put them to music. He has done it so beautifully, I weep every time I listen to  it.

HORSE WHISPERER         
 
She was a wild young filly
He was a horse whisperer
With kindness and patience
He tendered her tame
 
He found her lost and alone
Shying and kicking
Old hurt raged in her eyes
He stroked her mane
 
She was a wild young filly
He was her horse whisperer
Stroking her mane
He tendered her tame
 
His hands caressed her wounds
Scar tissue formed at his touch
His sparking eyes gentled her
Eased her pain
 
She was a wild young filly
He was her horse whisperer
Easing her pain
He tendered her tame
 
He taught her trust
As they roamed the hills
No bit in her mouth
He just whispered her name
 
She was a wild young filly
He was her horse whisperer
Whispering her name
He tendered her tame
 
She was a wild young filly
Her husband her horse whisperer
With wisdom and love
He tendered her tame
 
Tricia 10/11 
 

About triciabertram

I have written all my life. Writing helps me to make sense of a world I often don’t understand. Poetry is my supreme solace, closely followed by literature and music. When my son ended his life in 1999 I embarked on the most difficult journey of my life, my grief journey. To survive in this unknown, harsh landscape I had to write. It was for me, the only way I could even begin to move forward. Then in 2009 my darling husband died suddenly and so my journey continues. I write about other issues but because of my life experience, grief and death are continuing themes in my writing life. In our culture I believe there is a fear of death, an inability to accept the inevitability of our mortality, and this creates enormous difficulties for the bereaved and those around them. I have begun this blog in the hope I will create a small ripple in the pond of fear that is currently drowning the reality of death and grief. I will continue to skim the stones of my truth, watch them bounce, and see how many ripples I can make.

Posted on December 8, 2011, in Poems. Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

  1. Is there a recording of this yet?

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