Pain is a Bony Beast
Brandon Cook
Pain is a bony beast, hard to ride, and everyone wants to get off, as fit to die
In our flailing, we are most often thrown from its great back into the weeds,
Like dust or detritus,
With no wish to get back on, and no hope of home
But if you can find the courage, the same beast will take you there
And bring you, on the winding path, back
Not only to yourself, but
To all that—once lost—is now
More than found
On sacred ground
In the barn which you did not build, in that good place
The beast (you will see, at last) is in fact a steed
And finding yourself strangely moved, and fearless,
You will wrap a warm blanket around him
With a sigh and a long embrace
A knowing smile on your face