A Blessing

A couple of evenings ago my husband and I set out after my first long weekend of an audited class for a late birthday dinner, compliments of his father.  We set out upon the winding Kentucky road a little after 7:00.  Since our usual dinner plans start no later than 5pm, I had no idea that the trip would be such remarkable timing for an increasingly early autumn sunset.

I first noticed the clouds that had piled on the horizon in front of us leaving the open sky a clear blue after a wet morning.  These dark mounds were laced in pale pink against the azure and emerald of the coming evening.  When I couldn't find the sun, I remembered that our noses were pointed east and twisted around to find an even more stunning sight. 

Forgive me for touching upon the indescribable. 

The streaks of clouds in the west were tinged with one of the most brilliant fuchsias I have ever had the opportunity to behold.  The glowing sun lit the clouds so radiantly that the rest of the sky also blushed pink and orange.  Not only were these colors painted across the sky a rare sight to behold, but they hung softly over rolling fields squared over with wooden fences containing the majestic beauty of the ever-present equine herds.  I am accustomed to sunsets over fields of corn and forests of pines, but there was something so elevated in these elegant animals grazing in the last glow of the daylight.

This new sight brought to mind a favorite poem of mine as I again faced forward in my seat to gaze at the darkening fields lit by the glow now sinking behind us.  Truly, the picture in the poem has little in common with the scene I have described other than the horses and the evening.  However, the beautiful and inexplicable last few lines came somewhere from the recesses of my mind as I achingly longed for I-know-not-what.

Just off the Highway to Rochester, Minnesota
Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass.
And the eyes of those two Indian ponies
Darken with kindness.
They have come gladly out of the willows
To welcome my friend and me.
We step over the barbed wire into the pasture
Where they have been grazing all day, alone.
They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness
That we have come.
They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other.
There is no loneliness like theirs.
At home once more,
They begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness.
I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms,
For she has walked over to me
And nuzzled my left hand.
She is black and white,
Her mane falls wild on her forehead,
And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear
That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist.
Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.

James Wright, A Blessing