Nashota

Nashota 

Beauty that once ran free
lifeless and cold 
in the autumn morning chill
stunned by the unexpected loss

To see hopes and dreams
without any breath
like an icy plunge
shocks the system

Still expect to see
you in your place…

in the herd…

in the rhythm…
 
of the in and out parade to the pastures…

Instead, a bare spot
in our field near a tree
where you were
laid to rest

That's what processing grief
looks like today

Poem 21-270y
#highplainspoet
#westernnebraskathoughtsandlife
#horses
#grief

Nashota passed away sometime between Friday night and Saturday morning. Stunned to find her already gone in the morning. We buried her yesterday, Sunday, in the northwest field about 20 yards northeast of the turtle tree. It is where she once ran free among the herd. She was with us for 17 years.

Bear

Our Dog Bear 

Bear (17-325C)

As I open the door
A wave of grief meets me
No Bear to greet me
As I enter the garage

Pilot looking with lonely eyes

She knows Bear won't be back
We grieve a few minutes together
Mutual comfort, then move forward

A heart of gratitude for final moments

Sitting petting Bear in the brilliant sun
On a very warm Novembers morn
As I mourn in his final hours

Memories remain to mix

Together with joy and gratitude
For times we shared over fourteen years
And hope of the day when all things made new

Reminder to love well

To hold those I love loosely
To express my heart in the present
No guarantee for another breath

Sorrow and grief will recede

No longer need to carry the trauma
Placing life, times, who and what I love
In Father's hands with praise on my lips

Moments where enemy wants to plant

Seeds of accusation at Father
Same old scheme and now
I will not take the bait

I will offer praise to Father

Brings Him pleasure to be real
And worship in the midst of pain
He lifts the suffering, His peace settles

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet. (17-325C)

It is always hard when having to let go of a pet when he has been part of life for such a long time. We had to put Bear down last November.

What Could Have Been

This is dedicated to all those who have lost a child.  We lost our first child in a miscarriage.  There are times where I think I'm "over the loss" and then just something triggers a thought of where would he be today.

A Rainbow This Evening - Reminder of the promise there will come a day when all things are made right and I will see my oldest face to face.

What Could Have Been

What could have been?

I don't know why today I remember? 

The grief of your loss.

Seems fresh. 

Your mom and I never fully recovered.

A hole left in the soul.

We didn't know how to cope.

At times we still struggle.

You would have been 23 this year.

Perhaps graduating college.

My oldest son I've never known.

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

Pioneer

                     Pioneer

All the people and things left behind,
Further in journey stumble as blind.
Modern day pioneer hoping to find,
Redemption and abundance for all left behind.

Great American Desert littered with junk,
As begin to realize terrain must traverse.
Looming mountains no time to reverse,
Survival depends on jettisoning my junk.

Become lean and strong in internal way,
Pace must quicken as Summer wanes.
Narrow passes, no longer in pain,
What began with many, now just a few - so many lost way.

Grieve those lost on the trail,
They have their own story to tell.
Each must pass through own personal hell.
Weep for those whose journey keeps lost on the trail.

Naïve that bonds were strong,
Relationships tested and truth hard.
Obvious and can't discard,
Brokenness before become strong.

Pilgrimage lasts a lifetime,
Moments of oasis and bliss.
Revive with fresh kiss,
Few will accompany you on your journey for a lifetime.

One who sticks "closer than a brother,"
When loneliness and hopelessness set in.
Parched lips desperate, cry out to Him,
He meets you for He sticks "closer than a brother."

Day will come when breath last breath,
Paradox of journey, all alone must take.
Forgiven for all of sins and mistakes,
Other side of eternity when breath last breath.

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