Poetry

The Strong, Unbroken Spirit of the Mustang

Once high up on the green meadows, I sat watching down the valley

When my sharp notice wandered to gaze at an alley,

A group of bustling busybodies, some ant-like creatures

Meandering swiftly, just as the peregrine falcon’s miniatures.

 

Wandering non-stop, travelling a dog-leg path winding up the hill,

Nearer and nearer to me, and then, slowly, my eyes started to fill,

Suddenly, in my ears I felt-

A thousand thundering hooves rang,

And then my heart skipped a beat to see

The strong, unbroken spirit of the Mustang.

 

With equine eyes glistening under the sun

And the glowing mane that swayed when run,

The horse herd moving with joy and glee,

Gushing past, like the wind, in a pompous spree.

 

The legs so strong, capable and agile,

An outstanding personality, yet so hostile.

Just hidden away somewhere deep in the mountains’ crest,

Their presence concealed in the wild, wild west.

 

An envious and powerful sinewy body,

Along with a well-defined narrow chest

And a silky tail of the sorrel colour that made them

The most majestic animals so full of zest,

The most pre-eminent animals of the wild, wild west.

 

Then some stopped to catch their breath

And quench their thirst from a dwarfish pond,

While others played about affectionately

That reminded me of a very special bond.

 

Then taking to their hind legs, some combative males

Would start to fight, until one of the rivals fails,

For mates, for leadership, and sometimes for fun

Until exhaustion under the scorching sun.

 

Several moments passed by, and closely observing

I cherished those days with my long-defunct family,

The sensational antics of these wild horses

Brought back the age-old tender memories to me.

 

Oh, how we played and laughed and fought

And stayed as one in times of distress

How dearly I do now miss that fun,

Is something that I truly confess.

 

As I came to my senses I realised,

The walkthrough of dreamland had really sufficed.

From up the green meadows, as I saw,

The wild horses were ready to go back home.

Someday I hoped I would meet them again,

For they were very near and dear ones to me.

 

It was late evening, when again in my ears,

A thousand thundering hooves rang

As I got all set to merrily say goodbye

To the strong, unbroken spirit of the Mustang.

 

~Abhinav Navaratna

Bangalore, India

3 Comments

  1. Lasyapriya Bollavaram

    A truly beautiful piece of poetry!

  2. Abhinav Navaratna

    Thanks Lasya for the encouragement.

  3. Abhinav Navaratna

    Thanks very much Lasya for the encouragement!!

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