The Brumby Rescue. By Beth Bashford from Berrigan.
Audio of Beth’s poem can be listened to in the following video or read in the text.
MY NAME IS CLANCY.
I was born a Brumby of strength & pride to roam the hills of green,
just one big happy family, oblivious of dangers unseen.
The National Park Rangers with evil intent, had set traps of cold hard steel,
luring us in with sweet smelling hay – oh, how we enjoyed that meal.
Reality struck with the clang of the gates, taking us all by surprise
the realization we had been trapped, could be seen in every ones eyes.
Neddy, the youngest, was screaming with anguish, his Mother was nowhere in sight,
Kossi & Rue took over her role, giving him comfort throughout the night.
Daybreak came & so did the men ( we’d not seen humans ‘til now,)
I soon realized they were not our friends & we must escape somehow.
Too late!.. the air was filled with noise, as big boxes on wheels arrived,
this was our mode of transport this day, to a place where none have survived.
The loading game was a nightmare, the air was cold & damp,
they shouted abuse & whipped our rumps as they forced us up the ramp.
Families were parted & sent separate ways, ne’er to be seen again,
once more the horror & screaming for help, recorded the panic & pain.
The Abattior, our destination, was a horrible stinking place,
it reeked of death & suffering, no doubt this was our fate.
That night we were exhausted & I bowed my head as in prayer,
I opened my eyes to capture my dream & saw 2 humans standing there.
They spoke with voices soft & sweet, t’was music to my ears,
a sense of peace flowed over me, curtailing all my fears.
They moved so quietly but with haste, they sprayed us with some sort of potion,
they pinned up papers all over the place & left without causing commotion.
I don’t know what those papers were but next morning saw anger & rage,
as those horrible men of yesterday, put us back in the big metal cage.
Once again we traveled the road, to a place we knew not where,
but now it was a pleasant stop,– a farm,– we didn’t care.
Free at last to roam the hills, to kick up our heels in delight,
we mourned the loss of parents & kin, feeling sure that the world was now right.
For one whole month we feasted like kings as we breathed the mountain air,
but soon our world would change again, in a different state of affair.
Now we were moved to another place where steel fences were shaped in a ring,
where men looked us over & spoke in quiet tones, this seemed a very strange thing.
We entered the ring with nostrils flared, our flanks a-quiver with pain,
the men were now waving & shouting a lot,– I thought, “Oh God, not again.”
It appears this was an auction, where money would buy them a horse,
seven of us were chosen that day, but we didn’t know this of course.
Exhausted due to lack of sleep, I felt my strength slip away,
my Brumby spirit was broken,– I just didn’t care anyway.
Despondent & cold I walked the ramp, when my heart missed a beat with joy,
for already in this cold metal box were 5 friends, plus Neddy boy.
The greeting was warm, the reunion was great, it felt good to now be alive,
the journey was long but we stood fast, so glad we did survive.
Several hours later the truck pulled up, I was first to lead the outing,
we all enjoyed being back on land, with no humans cursing & shouting.
All of us survive today, because two girls had a vision,
they risked their lives to rescue us, from hatred & derision.
They nurtured us, they trained us, found homes with people who care,
we boys have all been gelded, but there’s lots of love out there.
And in these final lines I must, give thanks to one and all,
to those who give their love & time, to be there when we fall.
Thank you “Hoofs,” & especially Lyn, with Lisa there by your side,
I salute you with my right front hoof & say with ultimate pride,
THANK YOU.
Verse written & recited by,
Beth Bashford, the ‘Berrigan Bard’ …10th June, 2012
