Fluid Grace

Fluid Grace

Have you ever seen grace

a small band of Arabian horses

sprint through tall prairie grass

For a quarter mile

long strides, necks horizontal

tail carriage, mane floating

Lithely above the prairie

gaining speed, synced rhythm 

Gaze fixed upon them

'til they fade

in final light of day

Up the hill

into their corral

prancing 'n snorting

Phantoms of beauty 'n grace

18-246a

Author Notes:

Image is courtesy of our daughter from last night. An image of Ben before he herded up the mares and ran up the hill.

Thunder

        Thunder

Hear the thunder of hooves
Herd moves from boundary
Feisty energy as they approach
Passing in graceful beauty

Nemo trails far behind
Gathering speed
As he gallops by
Enjoy the grace

Need the grace
In the moment
Draws me to letting go
Once again

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet. (17-148A)

FIltered

Arabian and Paint Horses in the Early Morning Fog 2017

          Filtered

Filtered morning light
Fog diffuses dawn
Faint silhouette in distance
Find dense moisture dripping

Grass bent heavy
Greets bowed with moisture
Gratitude awakens with each step
Grace clings to me

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet. (17-131A)

Outside My Window

Leigh, our Egyptian Arabian mare enjoying mowing the yard.

    Outside My Window

What lurks outside my window,

It isn’t fear, it’s a beautiful show.

Mare quietly grazing,

Sight quite amazing.

Bucolic view,

Calm imbued.

Recall times,

Life sublime.

All of this viewed from my window,

Soul expose.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Beauty All Around

If you enjoy the poetry, I encourage you to consider the book Endurance by Brian Bucks that was finalized yesterday.  You can find it on Amazon.

           Beauty All Around

Evening light, sun low in sky,
Rainbow cloud catches my eye.
Geese flying into sun,
Swallowed up, blurred into one.

Gift of today in beauty all around,
Open up soul, allow self to be found.
Captured in an instant full of awe,
Creation's bounty fresh and raw.

Awakens what's so easily lost,
Just slow down and see is all it costs.
Peace enters in quiet and quick,
Jars busy brain with a subtle kick.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Image is of rainbow cloud with geese flying into sun today.

Heart Broker

                              Heart Broker

Given my heart away,

Soul wandered and strayed.

Subtle at first,

Now inquenchable thirst.

Heart is lost,

I've paid horrible cost.

Came to my senses,

Yet soul tense.

There is One who can redeem,

The cost He paid was extreme.

He isn't afraid to rescue me,

He longs for me to be free.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Legacy

                    Legacy

Will they know my legacy,
When my last breath breathed?
What will be left,
What legacy will I leave?

Each day that goes by,
Planting seed for those who proceed.
Will know of my love,
Will they build upon what I have given?

A father's desire for children to surpass,
To get a head start, not build from scratch.
Sown in love, truth, and courage,
Vulnerable, real, raw, and free.

A father who pressed in courageously,
Going places previous generations couldn't.
Being an example of love and courage,
Imparting love, courage, truthfulness and boldenss.

Building upon those gone before,
Launch pad for children to go on.
Graceful and loving,
Loved while living.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Old Red Tractor

                      Old Red Tractor

In the predawn darkness ether snorts into the engine's nostrils,
Slow grind of starter as tractor belches.
Coldness resisting the desire to start,
Yet ether is a powerful drug for diesel.

Finally spark catches and rumble starts,
Cold hydraulics whine as cold blood shoots through the system.
As move the whine decreases,
Lowering the blade to move snow.

Driveway covered in seven inches,
Giving way to the red tractor's 60 horses.
Pushing piles of snow out of the way,
Brisk air brushes face, no cab to numb winter.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Image is of our 40 year old International tractor.

Daily Grind

               Daily Grind

Deer moving about in snow.
Herds around Monument, one wants across road.
Brake 'til truck is moving slow.
My presence is a goad.

Turns around.
Unusual just one.
Away she bounds.
People shunned.

Beauty centers thoughts.
Calm the mind.
Mental battles fought.
Release from daily grind.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Image is of a deer this evening near Scotts Bluff National Monument.

Anxiety

               Anxiety

So want to control,
Hard to let go.
Anxiety shaken,
Desire for control awakens.

Want to control the weather today,
Force it to cooperate and hold at bay.
Consumes energy and time,
Crazy to think it's normal and fine.

Anxiety,
Anxiety.
Settle my soul,
Anxiety takes toll.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Fire in the Hole

                 Fire in the Hole

Whatever hole fell in - fire in the hole.
In deepest, darkest place just a flicker of light brings hope to soul.
May believe all alone, that's a lie.
God brings hope though may cry.

In shadows alone must face.
Fear comes in darkest place.
Broken moment, overcome terror and set free.
One glimpse of light, anxiety flees.

No need to wallow.
Wasted years hard to swallow.
One glance of Him, all made right.
God's mercy such a safe delight.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Mud

Mud all around.
Snow melts, soaking the ground.
Once covered white, now found.
Size reduced of the mound.

Warm enough to thaw.
Horses no longer paw.
Need bales of straw.
Between seasons and raw.

Press on with blog.
Mud and bog.
A few more lines.
I'll be fine.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Soft Sky

                        Soft Sky

Light of morning softly caresses mountain peaks,
Snowy summits, mauve colored sky streaks.
Majesty and grandeur loom to the West,
Soul comes alive, calls forth the best.

Lost in the hustle of another work day,
Just obviously on our way.
Can’t see the beauty before our eyes,
Creates incongruence, never slow to ponder why?

One more moment, another breathe,
Stop and engage or just daily death?
Soft sky offers to give,
Invitation to live.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Beholding

               Beholding

What you see is what you get?
Could be worry, could be fret?
Could be joy, could be peace?
What do I see soul's crease?

Holds my attention, fixes my gaze.
Then I run through life's maze.
Fixated on where my focus is.
Blindly going about my 'biz.'

Intentional focus, effort of correction,
Realize where my eyes go sets direction.
Beauty I behold,
Effects whether hot or cold.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Pray

                      Pray

What to do with all that surrounds?
Some as goofy as clowns.
Internal happiness yet to be found.
Others just frown.

Rub shoulders and no one knows.
The struggles and battles grow.
Façade covers as skin tight clothes.
Leaving nothing exposed.

Shutting down in a shell.
Wanting a magic spell.
Only to discover there isn’t an easy way.
Driven to knees to pray.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Weight and Wait

              Weight and Wait

When told to wait,  burden added,
Weight of wait, agitates.
Not told yes, not told no,
Indifference and ambivalence in don't know.

Try to control the weight,
Yet crushes, presses, and resists.
Wait builds muscles,
Patience, empathy, humility all grow.

Suffering under wait,
Wanting delivered from weight.
Being human,
In this life all wrestle with wait.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Image is of a rack of weights.

Transparency

               Transparency

Dynamic to live in reality.
Transparency, allows self to be seen.
Congruent - internal fidelity.
Truth batters, grit abrasively restores sheen.

Repeatedly allow self to be conned.
Permit another to abuse, swindle.
Intentions good, yet allured and fawned.
Keenness of mind lost, cognition dwindles.

Must wake up, forbid mental seduction.
Truth and wholeness requires new deductions.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Coyote Carcass

Coyote carcass on our dirt road.
Cold and lifeless yet pelt looks warm.
Just a few hours ago he strode.
In the ditch he "bought the farm."

Curiosity gets the better of me.
I just caught a glance.
Backup the car so I can see.
Stare for a moment, mesmerized trance.

One less in the pack.
Howl no longer hear.
One less set of tracks.
A howl no longer clear.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Danced

                Danced

Danced like young love.
Danced like well aged love.
Danced like no one was watching.
Danced to our song - Annie's Song.

Danced and changed the atmosphere.
Danced and shared moments with others.
Danced and felt foolish as flow with the rhythm.
Danced and was alive.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

Image from evening of dancing.

Loose Cannon

                    Loose Cannon

Term "loose cannon" floating in my mind as wake.
A loose cannon on an old warship (sailing ship) could wreck it.
A cannon broke loose, always when in rough seas wreaking havoc.
Hurting or killing the very ones who use it, hindering the ships created purpose.

At times we can be "loose cannons."
Abusive people are "loose cannons."
I can be a "loose cannon" - to myself and others.
Loose cannon in soul, damages and destroys self and relationships with others.

Words, anger, fear, shame, broke free in storms of life - "loose cannons."
People run for their lives away from "loose cannons."
A couragous few must anchor the "loose cannon" back to the deck.
Nimble, wise, seasoned, skilled, patient, disciplined shipmates secure the "loose cannon" and make the ship safe.
"Loose cannon" safe and secure.
Crew safe and secure.
Ship safe and secure.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.