Chapter Two: Daddy Heaven Calls Me Lightning

 

Holly Cow! Well, horse I guess. I wish you could see this masterpiece I’m looking at he’s a pale smoky stallion, majestic in his stance, his breath drifting to meet the morning sun. Only to find day breaking, revealing frost on the pumpkin down on the earth below.

 

Oh! Let me say, Howdy! Up here they call me Lightening. I’m the Senior Wrangler for these ghostly apparitions that go unnoticed by the world below. It’s my job to gather up these lively fellows. They are living thunder across the great big sky.

 

I alone ride drag behind them. They chase after forever. Across the horizon they go, sending sparks of lightening to the earth below. Seldom are they in the coral, though the good Lord wants them there.

 

Mighty Stallions in every color, each as lovely as the last. Winged creatures that spark lightening from their hoofs and thunder follows. Their breath is fire and turns the setting sun to a flaming red.

 

At night once the stars appear rest settles in, to a soft sweet lullaby, both soothing and refreshing is the night’s song. I often see the Angels sitting near, as I bed down on my red blanket harmonica in hand. They are in awe of the cowboys’ song.

 

For the last ten months, I have been training a new soul for this task I keep, side by side we’ve rode. I hear one day soon this new soul and I will be next of kin, a cousin of some sort, the powers that be won’t say. I plan to pass on my spurs and reins when the day is at hand. I’ll even give my rawhide to him.

 

I guess I’ll never look at a sunset quite the same. Soon I’ll be living down there on the plains. My days of wrangling lighting have come to a close. So sing me songs as you rock me to sleep. Tell me tales of wild thundering herds as you kiss me on the cheek. Stories of how I roped thunder and rode down lighting to be in the very spot you are. Swaddle me up in a blanket of red and tell how great my saddle set. Tell me of jingles gangling on my heels as light sparkles off my spurs.

 

Daddy whisper how you love your little man and tell me of the fun we will have. I say the bigger the tale the better and let me add. I’ll never get tired of hearing them. So saddle me up on your knee and we will play, laugh and sing. As my story draws to a close, hear me say: "I love you dad."

 

Written for the birth of: Gage Lee Palmer 10-13-2008

Author's Note

any comments are welcome

Reviews

[barleygirl]

I am in awe of your creative thinking, the way you combine the heavenly aspects of your story with the earthly happenings. I'm sorry I can't follow what's happening very well . . . not sure who is what & who/what is being born to which? But this is not necessary, as I can easily suspend my analytical reading approach & just marvel at how you paint heaven in ways that nobody ever has. I often think about past pets as angels that follow me around, but here you've taken this concept to a whole new level & I love it (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Cherrie Palmer]

The voice of each story is the baby telling, mommy and or daddy what kind of fun he or shehas had in Heaven right before they showed up here in their arms.

[shythatway]

Yes, the powers that be are always so darn secretive ;) This was cute. The riding drag thing reminded me of something, only that there was no hammer involved this time. *smile*

[Ivan_allanbard]

It's a wonderful story! Have you published it already? Keep writing! ;)