03/27/2024
In the shadow of an unthinkable cruelty case, this moment captured a promise made. It has taken five years to distill that eternal pledge into verse, an untitled poem that I now share with you. It is my goal this year to publish a book of my poetry, and a children’s story that shares the real rescue story of Touching My Toes. This poem, and the many stories yet to be told, are my tribute to the souls we’ve saved, the hearts we’ve touched, and the unbreakable bonds that have formed along the way.
Poem … to be titled …
I never owned her, my influence as absent as silence in the clamor of her world. From the moment she was conceived, I was merely a witness, my hands supporting her mother, my heart entwined with a life unfolding at the mercy of others.
Through her races, her triumphs, I was a shadow, cheering from a distance, my pride in her achievements as distant as the stars. When she fell at Belmont, a spectator I remained, my voice drowned out by the thunder of defeat, my desire to reach out restrained by the chains of circumstance.
Her need for rescue was a siren call I felt but could not answer, my will against her fate as feeble as whispers against the storm. I called to the heavens, not for intervention, but for the softening of hearts, for a chance to change her destiny.
Then, the day arrived when fate turned its gaze, allowing me a say. When she came before me, it was not as an owner to a possession but as a soul greeting another. I welcomed her with a kiss, not of ownership, but of kinship, from the depths of my being, a silent vow of sanctuary.
This tale is not of ownership, but of connection—a bond formed not through titles or claims, but through shared moments of vulnerability and strength. It's a story of finally having a say, not to dictate her fate, but to offer refuge, to be a voice for one who had been voiceless, to say, "You are home."
© Susan Kayne 2019-2024.
