A Poem for Ryder ~

A Poem for Ryder ~

 (*Dedicated to my friend Robert Punchur)

You swept,

On the back of your horse,

Like a sepulcher,

Into the midst-

A shadowy depiction,

Outlined in the mist.

 

You rode up to the side-

And you saw me waiting.

Despairing there and wandering . . .

 

As you rode into outskirts,

I watched your horse move-

Away into the darkness,

Which boxed in the gray,

That superseded the forest,

And swallowed your vision.

 

No longer stable,

I stumbled,

And my limbs scattered . . .

 

You must have heard the leaves crunch,

For a moment later, you redoubled.

 

The next moment I looked-

To the place near my left temple . . .

Where your hand was reaching,

And I finally responded.

 

I reached my hand out-

But you told me to wait here . . .

I waited.

 

I bowed my head,

And sat, in quiet contemplation-

And . . .

Through the hole in my arms, I could see that-

There were only a few leaves there offering me comfort.

 

Abandoned and alone,

I wept.

 

The trees seemed to shake,

And the wind whistled through the dark matrix.

I looked through the blackness,

And kept my eyes riveted . . .

On the place where you had exited.

 

Eventually, after seemingly ages . . .

A dot opened up a hole in the velvet,

And I knew you had come back.

 

I didn’t register the change-

As I was gently lifted,

And placed onto the horse, behind you.

Before I regained consciousness,

Hours after time exhausted-

 

The rays of light that wavered ‘round, then,

And I was in a village full of sound, and hope . . .

Where hands suddenly arrested me.

 

I never forgot, though-

Nestled in my cradle of care, and hope,

That I had been rescued by a,

Mysterious rider on horse, in shadow’s wings,

With unnoted travels, and a-

Wish to leave his path unmarked, but known,

To only those who were in need-

  Of his wayward services.