Je tiens ferme
I hold fast
to the rope
calming and guiding
the huge ripple-flanked horse,
as it gives its heavy hoof
to the farrier, like a
dog its paw.
I hold fast
to the land
which grows the crops,
straight-speared maize,
billowing, nodding barley.
The combine waits on my word,
to garner in the harvest.
I hold fast
to the past,
building on what has been,
bending it to fit
the future, turning
what was left, into
what becomes and remains.
I hold fast
to the principles,
the generosity of heart,
the respect, the honesty,
which make me
trusted and relied upon
in all my dealings.
I hold fast
to the dream,
using the talents
and skills I have
to bring back beauty,
to see how best to
breathe life into stone again.
I hold fast
to nature,
to heritage,
to friends,
to family,
to love,
to hope.
Written for Honor and Giles Gwilt by Caroline Chalkley.