The Inevitability of Life
Preamble
The black horses stood tall as they waited patiently in line to take my auntie June to her final resting place. We say this don’t we. We were in fact going to the crematorium. No-one finally rests in such a place. But, what do we say instead? Perhaps I will savour this momentous thought for another time.
Whilst I find horses intimidating, perhaps even a little scary, I can see their beauty.
The horses used to escort auntie June onto her final journey, perhaps that’s better, if a little cliché, reminded me of the beautiful horses that run their heart out in that cruellest of sports; horse racing. Some literally.
I also know we have many sayings used in horse racing, some of which I have used in this poem. With some I may have used a little poetic licence. I enjoy writing poems. I enjoy recognising the moment that can be used to write a poem. I enjoy the different ways in which words and phrases can be used to paint a myriad of pictures. I enjoy reading the narrative.
The Inevitability of Life
Beautiful piercing blue eyes.
Dulled with the passing of time.
Of sorrow and loss.
Despair racing ahead.
Winning hands down.
Hope, nowhere to be seen.
We’re on the home straight.
Still winning, but now only by a nose.
At least that’s what she tells me.
Lagging behind. Coming up from the rear.
Now, they’re words you don’t say often.
Or hear!
Life presents many twists and turns.
At times we are racing ahead; galloping onwards.
Clearing the fences; life’s hurdles with ease.
Our hearts pounding. The thrill exhilarating.
On occasion we’ve fallen at the last hurdle.
A broken leg for a horse spells trouble.
For us, it means an inconvenient time in hospital.
I know what I’d prefer. It can be so cruel; sport.
A testament to life itself.
If we were a horse they’d shoot us.
I hear so many say when death is lingering.
Well, we’re not a horse, nor a dog.
We are human beings.
Anyway auntie June wasn’t one to give in.
Refused to be beaten. She didn’t linger.
It happens to us all; the inevitability of life.
Once chomping at the bit to get started.
Waiting, not so patiently at the starters blocks,
We were off like the clappers.
Now we wait patiently. We’ve had a good run.
Until then, we’ll just keep showing up.
Her time came. All too sudden.
All too quickly. Some stroked her hair.
Others held her hand.
We all told her we love her.
We carry on. We have to.
Life stands still for no one.
Time likewise.
So, until the next time.
When we will, once again, meet up
with the inevitable consequence of life.
