The black stallion that I never owned

Wandering as a child through the crowded field of yellow popies,

I looked at that which I had yearned for,

throughout the thirteen years of my life...

The black stallion.

The black stallion that I never owned.

He was just a few months old, with a black mane and a furry tail..He was black.

I went near him, searching all around for a person who would claim him..

I found none, as it was only him that I had seen and could SEE..

A black horse in the midst of a yellow field, He was just the dream I had seen.

The black love.. with the colour of my eyes,

a mother's love, and the reassuring stride of a father's strength,

that which I liked to have..

For, I had none but that beauty of my dreams..

I reached out my hand to touch his pink nose and feel the silk of his coat,

With the perfection combination of everything, he stood there..

As though waiting for me to hold him, speak to him, take care of him, ride him.. and to love him.

Perhaps like me.

With a soft nudge he caught my thoughts in its tracks and gave me a loving look..

It looked like he was smiling, his teeth was white..

As white as the pale moon that runs behind dark clouds...

He was perfect.

He was my dream come true.

At last, I've a black stallion. I could see him everywhere.

In my sleep, when I roam, and when I dont get to see those who bore me...

I just looked at his gaze, following it.. Paradise. Being with Him..

I was about to mount on him and feel the breeze that he could've offered...

I wanted to feel the flight on his back, with the wind seeing through me.. beyond all physical obstructions..

I felt the necessity of his presence.. for seeing me and the blunt emotions inside.

I felt through his black mane and got ready to gallop with him through the gay yellows,

full of happpiness, speed and the blowing skies,

Right when the yellow suddenly hit my eyes like a spear does a life..

And there I was lying on the dead field that cracked right down, without a sprout.. parched.

I turned around for Him, he wasn't there.

Like always, I go near him and he disappears.

HE, my wind, the black stallion that I never owned.

~ In search of the black stallion.

~ Hemu

(this piece, originally written on a train journey:

7:15pm

23/5/2008 )