Do not grieve for me: I am free!

I am free of illness, free of disability.

But I am not gone. Unfettered from

human frailty, I live on, and you can see me:

I am the filly frolicking in the field

kicking my hooves to the sky

bucking the breeze. Compelled to do what’s in my blood,

I race the wind . . . and win.

Deep, intelligent brown eyes,

wisp of golden forelock brushed aside,

confidence of stride—surely you can recognize me,

feel my spirit, that indomitable Arabian spirit,

and know that I am not a memory. I am here.

Call to me, and I will whinny in reply,

“Do not cry—I am free! Love me, miss me,

but do not grieve for me.”

Sherrie J. Lyons

©August 29, 2004