I wrote the poem below
especially for those people who have a four-legged friend in heaven. It was
also written for a certain bay Arabian stallion. His name was Khardan, he
wasn't mine, but, in a way, he was. I loved riding him, and loved him, which
I still do.
He died July 1, 2002, at twenty years of age. His owner and two-legged friends
believe he died from colic, from what, we don't know. His spirit will soar
above me forever, for I can never reach the special place in heaven I am
sure God has saved for him. And, truly, to find a friend who has been living
in the place we cannot see for a while yet, close your eyes and look deeply
into your heart. You will see, I promise.
I really hope my poem helps some of you who have lost a cherished
friend. I have loved every horse I met, and will remember them forever. If
you ever see a sunset that looks exceptionally beautiful to you, think of
it as a present from a dear friend in heaven.
Sara Bercier
Hoofbeats From Heaven
A cool breath behind you ruffles your hair,
You turn to look,
But your friend is not there.
You reach out in your
mind,
Searching for him.
And you know that he is cared for,
An angel for his every whim.
Your mind is quietly
pleading with your heart,
To let the precious memories go.
But your mind desperately reels,
As your heart vehemently says No!
You despairingly reach
out your hand,
Aching for his spirit to glide down and touch you.
Look into your heart,
That's all you have to do.
Far in the distance,
You hear the distinct sound of thunder.
You anxiously look up,
But seeing no clouds, you wonder.
He appears before you,
When you close your eyes.
But when you open them,
He disappears back to heaven,
An angel in disguise.
Your hear the noise again,
And you look up to heaven.
There you see white clouds,
In their number, seven.
As you watch, they
merge,
Creating an image you know.
And as you continue staring,
His image begins to show.
There your friend is,
Glorious in fluffy white.
An additional cloud forms,
His Angel Wings of might.
Then
you know that the sound you heard,
Wasn't thunder at all.
It was your friend arriving,
Giving you a call.
The
hoof beats as he approaches,
And down your face they wash,
Those happy, joyous tears.
You spend the day with
your friend,
Knowing he'll eventually go.
Back to the heaven from which he came,
And from which again he will show.
As the thunder-like
hoof beats,
Roll happily over the land.
You know his hoof prints are in your heart,
Pressed forever there like prints in the sand.
As
time passes by,
Days turn to years,
You'll always remember him,
With happy and sad tears.
With the hoof prints
on your heart,
You will never disregard.
The days the hoof beats from heaven came,
A heaven-sent greeting card.
Sara Bercier
Khardan 