WHITE HORSES IN AN EMPTY LOT, 1982

“…the stone builders rejected/has become
the cornerstone”/those who perform
in a vacuous lot/with acrobatics perfected/
shall be flown about/to high festivals afar”
--David Israel, The Cornerstone

It was 30 or 40 years ago, but the dust of time
has not clouded the memory I’m rendering here in rhyme.
A friend, a Mensa* member, was in the throes of mental suffering.
In my thoughts about what help I might be able to bring,

it came to me GOD SPEAKS might speak to his condition
and help restore his balance. But the only edition
I knew of in those days in Saint Louis, our city,
lay on a shelf at the at the downtown library.

I asked if he was game to go and get it.
He was desperate enough to murmur his assent.
We went out to my car and began to make our way
along boulevards, rather than the freeway,
down lanes that were etched in the history
of the mostly-faded glory of the Midwestern city


In midtown, as we neared the urban heart,
we entered a maze of buildings all but falling apart,
and in places where other ones had once stood,
debris-cluttered lots dotted the neighborhood.
In this unlikely place, as I carefully drove, my eyes
were suddenly pierced by an incredible surprise!

In one of the fenced-in sites of previous demolitions
five, maybe seven pure white Arabian stallions
were proudly prancing under the morning sun
with neither keeper nor sign bearing information.

It seemed the reason might simply be found
in the mission that had led us to this piece of ground.
I felt a power as strong as nuclear fission,
but what lay before us had the ambience of a Vision!

I’ll never forget those symbols-become-equine-flesh
as I felt the purpose of our journey and my awe at the sight mesh
in a limitlessness, in this age of the White Horse Avatar
as we made our way toward GOD SPEAKS in my car.

My hurting friend? He too was impressed by the wondrous sight,
although GOD SPEAKS did not turn out to be the cure for his dark night.

______
* Mensa: A non-profit organization for people with high IQs.
*****
Narrative poem: m.r. Oct 18-19, 2024
Graphic by m.r. is considerably altered from a photo found online