Kentucky Morn Poem by Teresa Tabo

As I step outside…
The cool, fresh, morning air brushes my face.

I sniff the sweet smell of unknown flowers floating to me on the breeze
From some distant farm garden.

I hear baby robins crying with mouths open and heads back…
Waiting for the breakfast being hastily gathered
By parents hopping quickly across the wet lawn.

Both humming birds and honey bees dart among the
Trumpet vine blossoms winding through the wire trellis
That lines one side of the porch.

I turn for my morning walk down the tree-lined lane
Winding through the countryside where I grew up.

As I walk through the gate, I run my fingers over the cold limestone
Of the rock fence built more than 150 years ago…
Still standing as a reminder of times long ago when
Carriages and horses travelled this same path.

A feeling of history and heritage and continuity of life
Sweeps over me
As I realize that I, too, am part of that timeline of Southern life and ways
That still exist today and will continue
After I am gone and others take my place.
I feel a sense of belonging.

The morning sunlight slips through the leaves of the maple and oak trees
Writing with pencils of light on the pavement that lies before me.

Each new breeze brings the sound of rustling leaves
And the smacking of long grass and orange daylilies
Against the uneven stones of the hand-laid rock wall.

The earth smells new and clean and fresh as the aroma
Of black loam and things growing
Fills my senses.

I reach the crest of the hill and look out over the acres of blue-green pastures
Framed by long, white wooden fences
That follow the rising and falling of the earth
As if they were painted on canvas by some magical master.

The sunlight dances on the waters of a small pond like
Sparkling crystals scattered and afloat on tiny ripples
Only obscured by swirling ribbons of fog
Rising gently from the surface.

In the distance the land is dotted by brightly painted barns
Topped with steeples and green copper weathervanes
That gently turn to and fro in the breeze.

Barns filled with stalls…widows standing wide open…
Morning light flowing through from one side out the other
Except where the silhouette of a head with pointed ears
Turns to watch me with curiosity as I pass by.

And, then I hear it…that sound I was hoping for….
Of hooves galloping in soft earth...
Teasing me until they come into view.

I turn and run to the fence…clinging to the dew covered wood…
My eyes turned to the small rise
Where the thudding beckons me.

My heart leaps as the thoroughbred mare comes into view first…
Followed by her young colt
Trying to keep up but legs still unsure.

They ignore me and gallop gently past…playing together
As mothers and children often play
Taking turns chasing each other.

The mother’s head held high as if proud of her newborn
Wearing her shiny, dark chestnut coat
Her dark mane and tail flowing this way and that
At each turn of her sure-footed steps.

The young male trying desperately to keep up…
Learning balance with each gallop
Confidence still alluding him
Yet defiant of failure and determined to master.

Though still a youngster, the white star on this nose
And, the flicking of his short black tail
Called out, “I am here! A thoroughbred! A champion! ”

And, I watch ‘til they once again disappear over a small hill
Vanishing from my sight…the soft hoof beats fading away…
I wish that they would return...
But know that they are on their way
To more interesting places of discovery.

I step back from the fence and turn once again
To the tree-lined lane I was following.

As my heartbeat returns to normal…a tear comes to my eye.
And, as I once again start walking…I begin to pray

Thanking the Almighty of creation for all the beauty
I am blessed with…on each and every
...Kentucky morn.