A Poem Becomes a Prayer

Giving Comfort and Inspiration to Others

Winter in the Preseli Mountains, Pembrokeshire

Winter in the Preseli Mountains, Pembrokeshire

Megan’s poetry has struck a chord with so many people over the past 18 months since I published her poems in Wordsmith: The Gift of a Soul. Some people contact me to tell me so and I take great pleasure from knowing that Megan’s poetry is helping and pleasing others. Sometimes it brings comfort. Sometimes it is inspiration. Sometimes it is sheer pleasure in the beauty of her words. But there must be many others out there who I do not know about who have been affected by reading Megan’s poetry.

One such that I learned of by chance was a man – maybe a priest, maybe an active member of a church congregation. I don’t know for sure. What I do know is that he read one of Megan’s poems as a prayer in his church and as a result many members of the congregation asked him for a copy of the poem.

This is the poem that he read.

Motion of the Forward Variety

Walk beside me.
Neither pull ahead
Nor hang back
And do not follow me
But know where I go
And walk beside me there.

Walk beside me.
Stand when I stop
And walk when I go.
Step lightly over the fresh turf
Like angels dancing beneath your feet
And walk heavenly beside me.

Walk beside me
When the grass is green
And the sky is blue.
Dance like silver light
And be filled with joy
And walk beside me.

©Megan Young

A Spiritual Oneness

 

Megan with the Exmoor herd on the Pentland Hills near Edinburgh

Megan with the Exmoor herd on the Pentland Hills near Edinburgh

When Megan wrote this poem she had in her mind the Exmoor ponies which she cared for as a veterinary student on the hills outside Edinburgh. These ponies are one of Britain’s native breeds which often live as free roaming herds. They retain the wildness of their ancestors. And yet, sensing something deep within Megan, they would walk with her, as equals. A spiritual rapport, a common sense of oneness, whether it be human, animal or god, that is what this poem is about.

Poem Becomes a Prayer

I came to know of the way in which Megan’s poem had been used as a prayer through a mutual acquaintance. The story was that the man had being staying with relatives in Pembrokeshire, the place that Megan loved above all others. He noticed Wordsmith: The Gift of a Soul on the windowsill, picked it up out of casual interest and idly flicked through it. The pages seemed to fall open at Motion of a Forward Variety. He felt, he told me, as though God had led him to that poem.

Megan was a spiritual person with a belief in God. It is fitting that her poem should have become a prayer.

 


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