by Michael Plante

 

I

The Creator sat upon a blue stone dotting the darkness with stars and planets.
Marvelling at his own creation a thought occurred:

Light can exist in the darkness
yet darkness cannot exist in light.
This conflict shall transform whomever it touches;
all of my children shall come to understand resilience;
and the depth of their essence will be recognized.

As the Creator’s thought developed
the elders of 6 Nations gathered under a starry night
to tell ancestral tales of peace and happiness that
maintain the balance of respect and honor
with nature’s forces and the Creator’s will.

Grand in scale the stories rose to the Creator’s ear
each generation expanding their story
never knowing that intention’s blindness was at hand.   
In the light or in the darkness 
one should never tempt the Creator’s ego
for the shift of an unbalanced scale
is a landslide of misconception
and leads adversity to the footsteps of a soul.

Reaching into the void the Creator retrieved the entities known as Chaos and Anarchy.
Crushing the two in his fist, he whispered into the darkness:

This is Adversity,
a gift to my children

Through his power and intense heat the horse
that knows no compassion was created.
Out of the void Adversity was born.
The new born entity, Adversity 
charged into the depths of the night sky
and the Creator’s children could see it from where they slept.
In the darkness the trailing light was a marvel to witness
astounding young minds;
some children were captivated
while others were mesmerized
all were affected.

The horse of Adversity charged the universe.
Its strides as long as a thousand years
breathing in patience and expelling time
crossing stars like a waterfall in spring
heading towards its destiny, a thought repeating in mind…

    I have no memory
    all that I am exists in this moment.
    What trails in my wake is none of my concern
    I leave that up to the Creator.
    I only exist to bring to you an awakening;
    through pain of the mind, through exhaustion of the soul,
    the rapturous evening sky shall rain upon you.

    My eyes are as red as the hottest fires
    piercing the body that holds the soul.
    My hide is as red as my eyes and rough enough to tear flesh;
    my breath will capture the un-suspecting and burn their souls as fuel.
    My tail is nine cords of cruelty lashing the body;
    opening the skin to turn the body as red as my eyes.
    I trample humans, transforming them into the dirt they stand on.
    I am Adversity
    and I was created for you

As the horse of Adversity crossed the universe
it knew two things:
why it was created, and for whom it was created.
Strife and Suffering grasp its mane 
trailing the horse wherever it goes.
The two entities thrive on the back of Adversity
never understanding remorse.

When Adversity touched the soil of an old world it stood motionless,
a century of rest shall conclude a century of travel.
During that century of rest the children of the old world praised this horse,
adopted it as their own.
Fueled by greed they engaged in silent ignorance.
They revelled in the madness of blood and violence,
dancing under the midnight sun and destroying the balance of nature,
while feasting upon each other’s flesh.
In the dawning hours of revelry 
when excitement slipped through the fingers of negligence 
the tide of misfortune crashed upon the shores of this old world. 

Misgiving had arrived to carry Adversity over the sea.
He was placed onto the wooden vessel named Hardship:
hail the cry of adventure over the sea of greed,
under the night sky in the cool of darkness 
Chaos and Anarchy danced in the dreams of men.
Dreams of riches beyond imagination
accolades that seduced their vanity.
High tides of lust transform men into kings,
and legends onto the pages of history!
From the crow’s nest a war cry was released:
upon new land our destiny awaits!
When the sun rose the next day
the shores of exploitation appeared on the horizon.

II

We hear the Creator’s words carried upon timeless winds.
For those that listen we hear them in the darkness:
“Your breath is my breath.
Your life is my gift.
See to it attentively,
for far greater things are held
in the darkness of despair”

Reasoning gave way to the scarlet hue of morning’s sunrise.
Sleepy children of a new land awoke for the last time;
never again would they rest.
The raven that protected them since birth
fell dead from the sky.

Foreseeable warnings were thrown out to sea
skipping like stones across the waves
sinking beneath the water
into the depths of a turbulent sea.
Once thrown they can never be retrieved.
Resentment is the cunning child of ignorance,
bred in the depths of deception and birthed to a blind world,
consuming the souls of the innocent and leaving in its wake
an infection festering in the bowels of humanity.
As the scarlet hue touched the shores of the new land
the cunning child of ignorance was born.

The children of the new land blindly welcomed 
the riptide of illusion into their arms.
They welcomed the cunning child of ignorance
and marveled at the horse of Adversity as he was brought ashore,
for such magnitude had never been witnessed.

As the children of this new land touched the horse
a sickness seeped into their soul.
Chaos and Anarchy captured the imagination 
like a flower attracts a butterfly;
unsuspecting children are easily mis-lead.
The horse of Adversity awoke from its slumber
with an eruption of lies and deceit
and the seduction of destruction through greed and lust.
Selling the Creator’s soul 
the children of the new land lost their sight
and in doing so lost their light.

Cruppered to the horse of Adversity
the children of the new land were forever bound.
Strife and anguish madly lashing from the hands of the oppressor
as the seeds of bloodlust and greed were deeply planted
changing the landscape of freedom.
Children ripped from the arms of parents
sent to work in the fields of deception
as maniacal leaders from the old land raped them of their innocence
and coerced them to their knees in the darkness of night.
Children forced to eat their own vomit
off cold hardwood floors of hollow institutions
as a cantankerous god laughed from high above.    
Their blood now filled the blank pages of history.

III

As the darkness of each night’s shadow crossed the floor
shivering souls held their breath; creaking floorboards echoed their nightmare.
In the morning one more empty bed, and one more story to tell.

The sickness continued deep into the center of the soul
weakening the mind and body.
Arrogance infected the food and it became rotten.
Brother against brother – divided loyalties;
The Horse of War touched the new land.
Grazing on flesh and drinking blood of the dead,
it too knows nothing of mercy
and is well attuned to anarchy.

Opposing leaders of the new world fell upon open battlefields
killed for venture’s gain, 
trampled to death by charging stallions  
as their children watched in horror.
Mothers drew blood from their breasts
and fed the hungry 
as vanity’s mirror took their sight.
The children of the new world 
were rounded up like wild horses,
beaten and whipped while staked to the ground.
Men and women were hung from the same trees 
that would later warm the hearth of their oppressor.
A new reign swept over the land
that stung the eyes of the Creator. 

Ill-equipped and unprepared 
the elders were forced to inhabit spoiled lands
unfit for human existence. 
They were left to die like sick animals.
Calling to the Creator by fire-light; 
offerings were made when so little was at hand.
Pleading souls touched by despair;
made desperate calls to be released from tyrannical rule
before the last star fell from existence.

IV

The blue stone continued to turn in the void
and the Creator sighed;
some lessons are harder than others
even for himself, he thought.
Now it was time for the pain to stop
for his children have had enough.

The soul can only endure so much
before it breaks
and the healing shall create scars.
Time’s soothing shall be absorbed.
A remedy for strife is harmony.
All misdeeds shall be returned to their owners
by way of reconciliation
which beats the heart 
of the horse of Redemption.

With this thought the Creator reached into the void
and from its depth he captured two entities known as resentment and accord.
With great effort combined the two.
With a heavy heart he spoke one word: Redemption

One half of the resulting horse is serene white 
while the other half is black.
One eye is blue while the other is grey.
Reconciliation flows through its split mane, 
that is of two parts
Accountability and Amends.
Both function as one
for without the other, neither can exist.

It’s a stern and authoritarian horse
for self-guided children who create such atrocities
can only be made aware of their inflections
by way of pain. 
The guiltless children 
that attempt to pick up the torch of the oppressor
shall burn themselves twice as deep.

The Horse of Redemption Speaks

I am the horse of Redemption
and I am of two minds:

For those that apply harm to others 
I am the conscience that weighs the past.
I am one part of the scales of justice
that renders decisions of reconciliation.
Even death cannot relieve the burdens of injustice.

For those that inherit mis-justice 
they too shall know the strife of an afflicted mind
until the day of absolution befalls them like a turbulent sunset.
Only then will they come to recognize their sickness of the soul
and the damage they have done.

I carry the only remedy for afflicted souls of injustice.
Reach for redemption, cry out in your anguish
make ready your soul and I shall relieve you of your weight.
Watch as turbulent skies accept your awakening,
your choice to be accountable.
Only then can you call the Creator master of your destiny.

The horse of Redemption was created for two worlds:
that of the oppressor and those afflicted by their actions.
Through the dark universe the horse of Redemption traveled;
touching the Creator’s stars
and collecting the light of honor 
that shines for the integral soul–
the light that bends to none other than the Creator himself.
If a thousand years of adversity were endured 
then a thousand years of contentment shall be bestowed.
The eyes required to see the souls of those laid to rest unjustly
can only be acquired by the constellation of patience and revere;
from that the horse of Redemption charged.

The horse of Redemption landed in the West
emerging from twilight skies of rust
just before the sea of no memory
where the land of the living meets the spirits of the dead.
A new reality of unequivocal truth and justice took form.
The mountain of time crumbled away
and from the rubble soil exposed
old world’s layers of deceit and lies.

The East of the new land lay in darkness
unexposed for many years.
Inherited lies and deceit sickened society.    
Those of a corrupt mind and soul
acted upon their own volition.
They extracted from others for personal wealth
taking riches of the land through the body and souls of others
reveling in their demise, they laugh aloud at Creator
taunting him while dancing with vexatious lovers. 

And as the dawn approached the new day
the children of the West converged in the light.
Purity of the tormented soul prevailed
and the horse of Redemption charged towards the East
breathing in the fires of truth
collecting the battered and discarded children
on the day of reckoning.

Under the same sunrise awoke the East
and the blanket of deceit was stripped away.
Rumors passed the stained-glass windows that distorted society’s vision.
Disbelief incurred and the oppressor’s grip weakened.
Across the plains of freedom the horse of Redemption charged
turning the soil that hid the truth for a century;
and as the horse arrived on the doorstep of the East
the deceit of the oppressor was called out.

Staggering like drunken sailors 
dumbfounded fools with their wordless expressions
stood in the light of the Creator, before the horse of Redemption.
Denial is painful ignorance
and gives birth to humiliation.
As the horse of Redemption released the pain of a thousand years
the oppressor fell to his knees in shame and disgrace:
the light had finally arrived in the East.

I have no words, the oppressor spoke,
my words have fallen to the ground like stones
my body has been emptied and there is nothing left.
I have no value nor excuse of action.
I am without essence.

The oppressor looked into the eyes of the horse
pleading for resolve, searching for forgiveness and asking for mercy;
like looking into the eyes of the Creator himself.
Answers to guilt and shame can only be derived through his light
and in the horse’s eyes the answer was revealed. 

A single tear can feed a new beginning,
it flourishes new life
and is the hallmark of rising potential;
for nothing is wasted according to the Creator
and the unjust can also be realigned.
A soul trapped in the void of selfishness can be released into a new world.
Accountability leads to sincerity of nature, that in turn leads to redemption.

Upon which accord do I strike first, the oppressor asked?

The light exposes the truth and
all that follows is of the Creator’s will. 

V

From the desolate and thunderous night,
the Creator came to the fire-light.
Six elders watched, astounded and speechless 
as the Creator sat with them.
He picked up six stones
and tossed them into the flames.

6 Ravens were released from the fire.
6 Ravens flew from the light into darkness.
6 Ravens took to the sky.
6 Ravens to protect Six Nations.

As the thunder rolled over the land
the Creator stood before his children;
serenity was born from strife and despair
and the children of the new world were blessed.

Once discarded, forgotten
and left to defend themselves,
the children of the new world 
finally started to breathe,
knowing their oppressor had fallen to accountability.

VI

We instill the thoughts of the Creator,
we embrace his love, and act in his honor.
We understand the absence of reason
and the worth of a soul conflicted. 

6 nations existed in harmony,
long before the horse of Adversity touched the soil.
6 nations gathered as the darkness arrived
and built a fire from the embers of yesterday.
Each elder telling a story of adversity
and adding it to the fire.
Flames of truth erupted and a new light was born.
Winds of the North carried it over the land;
its embers would burn injustice.
The Creator’s call was heard
and the new world caught fire.

On that day reconciliation was born
and the oppressor of a century fell to his knees;
the horse of Redemption was released from the void
and began to heal the desolate land,
the land that had been raped of her beauty and treasures. 

6 Leaders from 6 Nations gathered on the sacred ground
as the eyes of the Creator looked upon them.
Each nation was granted a star
in the night sky as a reminder:
for many have been lost
that have yet to be found.

VII

Long have we forgotten the value our essence,
the wind of the North that touches death,
brushes our cheeks with a chill in the night.
Whispering in our ears Redemption,
and our children sleep in peace.

I am a child of the new world
born of adversity and versed in despair.
I stand as a testament to atrocities endured by my ancestors.
Before the horse of Adversity made its way to our world
we were a peaceful people.
The air was clean, the food plentiful
and our innocence undisturbed.
The vessel known as Hardship carried the horse of Adversity over the sea 
and the morning it landed, our lives would never be the same.

From sunrise to sunset my tribe was beaten by the past.
Humiliation made us as sick
as the land we were forced to inhabit.
Our souls tainted, like the water we drank
our children taken, 
our women raped and murdered,
our eradication was almost complete before the Creator stepped in.

My tribe is still healing:
love does not come instantly.
Dwelling in the past holds a soul:
a seed of hope takes decades to grow.
The night still brings haunting voices of the past
my Dreamcatcher at dawn hangs empty.

When I was a child I wanted to be a blue horse 
that charges the land of dreamers.
My mane would flow like a spring river
and sparkles would rise into the night sky
becoming stars that mapped the way to a better land;
a land where no one was afraid,
where fear was a stone
cast into the sky, never to be seen again.

My thunderous legs would pound the ground
shaking up the four seasons,
calling them out to play
with the rising moon that protected children
as they slept on rolling clouds.

I would cross the land of dreams towards tomorrow,
gathering the wishes of my people
just as the night sky collects stars.
Eternity awaits my arrival:
our faith shall never die
nor the wishes I carry.
This is nothing more than a child’s dream,
yet I believe it can be done. 

My eyes would be the color of coal
with a fiery center,
thwarting the demons that steal dreams.
Painted on each shoulder in brilliant white;
the dreamcatcher that collect those dreams.
I would feel them as they were caught,
and knowing my people through their dreams would fuel my heart.
I would know love and compassion. 

Midnight blue would be my color for it cusps transition.
I would be a silhouette against the night sky,
a dancing horse playing with the stars.
I would watch the spirit of my people
with a wave of tranquility. 
They would smile and nod
as they tender one existence for another.

How proud of me would they be?
The dreams of my people reveal their 
purity and unwavering conviction.
How honored I would be to carry their wishes.
A lone warrior who rises when called upon,
charging the night ensuring their peace,
keeping their hope secured in my heart.
I would feel the surge of their life through my veins,
pounding my temples with a fury of compassion.
I would ride the equinox of darkness
towards the new light of equal justice.

Within the dream of a child 
the path of our ancestors is revealed;
carried in the heart of a blue horse
riding the night sky towards a new dawn.

When I was a child I dreamt I was a blue horse.

Acknowledgements

Spiritual Advisor: The Creator
Editor: Marie Metaphor Specht
Images: Pixabay Freestock

All compositions that appear on The Poet’s House are composed by Michael Plante and are subject to copyright.

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