-------------------------------- ** This story was written when I was 15-16, and the quality and content reflect that. Please be aware that my position on topics contained within may have changed in the time between publishing and now, and I apologize for any offensive material that I may have condoned in my younger years. **
I said , What is it that has you thinking? And you looked at me and fluffed your wings and said, Momma, what are ponies made of?
And it is much in the way of the parent, To avoid such questions and their comrades And leave it to their child to figure it out on their own; But you had no parent, And I would not take that place No matter what name you called me.
So I told you, Little fillies are treats and sweets and sugary things, And colts are snips and snails and puppy dog tails, But you told me that wasn't good enough, And that you wanted the truth. I was never one to deny you the truth.
So I told you, Inside of you is a raging storm and a gentle sea, And the scalding sun and the cooling moon, And hundreds of stars to keep your heart safe; And in your hooves are clouds waiting to touch the sky, And in your wings burn lightning and thunder, And your heart fills your eyes with the sky.
You asked, But why are my eyes not blue? The sky is blue. And how can it be in me?
I shook my head and said; Things are not quite like that, And despite your confusion, You listened.
The sky is not something that can be placed in you, It is something that you must place in it; When you dream, your heart watches the stars through your mind So it knows where to fly your hopes.
When you look outside, The sky is reflected in your eyes, And in your eyes Can your heart see it.
You said this was a rather logical decision, And that maybe that was an okay thing to think. And as I wondered how much you had grown up, You asked why the lightning in your wings didn't hurt you.
Lightning is only dangerous when you are reckless, I told you, For flying during a storm is no danger if you can ride the wind. It is the same with your wings, They will carry you forever, If you do not steer them wrong. I paused, There is also no thunder to make your ears ring, and so there is not much chance of losing your balance at all.
You spread your little wings, Full of potential, your teacher had said, And said, But I can hear thunder in my ears.
I laughed, That is your heart, listening with you. Hear it and keep it close, and you shall always be able to find home. You asked me how that was possible, and I said; Because home is where everyone's heart beats the same.
You pressed your ear to my chest, Listened close as only a foal could do, And waited. Your heart does not beat the same as mine.
I nodded, Because we haven't found home, yet. One day, we will reach the cloud city, And your papa will be there, And all of our hearts will beat the same.
You sighed, your breath a cold cloud in the air, and said, What are Pegasi supposed to be, Momma? I wrapped my wings around you to keep you warm, and whispered,
Pegasi must be strong enough to fight the storms, And be able to break even the most terrible hurricane into nothing; They must be able to fly hard and fly strong, And they must always be dark as the thunderclouds.
That must be really hard to do, You said, I don't feel much like that at all. Am I a Pegasus?
I lifted your chin up with my hooves, And spread your white wings out alongside my black, And let you compare them Before I began.
But Pegasi must also be gentle enough to move even the weakest of wisps, And must be calm enough to guide the breeze with their wings; They must be soft as summer rain, And must always be as light as sunbeams if they want to fly.
You whispered nothing but, Oh. So I took your foalish form into my hooves, And held your little heart against me, And willed my heart to beat faster, If only to match yours for a little while.
And you heard it match, And you looked up at me, Nearly crying, And whispered, Maybe that's what Pegasi are made of, Momma. And for once I had to ask, What?
You smiled and wrapped your little hooves around me, Standing up on your hind legs on our little nest of cloud, And you smiled through the winter's chill in your breath, Pegasi are made of home.
The other fillies said I was ugly, You whispered. I took the brush from your mane, And the ribbons from the mantel, And asked why on earth you believed them.
Because ponies can't lie, Or at least that's what you told me, And if they cannot lie, Then they are telling the truth.
I told you that it was very smart of you And all the other pretty things I always said When you looked at your hooves And would not look at me.
But smart isn't pretty, You would say, Your little voice so full of hurt and remorse That it seemed you were older inside.
Your teacher said you were gifted. I would say back, Taking back up all the products and bows That would take to your mane like leeches to blood Until your confidence was in the ribbons and not in yourself.
But gifted isn't pretty, You would insist, And you would take the ribbons from me With your sparkling magic And tear them up Like you always did
How dare you, I would yell, Those were expensive and go to your room, And you would, Not shedding a tear, For the day you broke to me Would be the day you died.
And when I had gathered the fragments Of your artificial beauty, And thrown them out, I pulled my own ribbons out of my hair, And gently let it fall Until it was natural
Not normal, But natural, And I would take a deep breath And I would follow you.
I always found you in the same place.
Sitting, on your haunches, In a circle of mess Of your own creation, With dresses and fancy jewels spread over the floor.
And like every time, You would move away as I sat down beside you, And would not answer me, Even when I used the prettiest words.
You were too smart for the words, so I tried something different. I took the nearest dress, one that you always hated, And I put it on.
You were a growing filly, and I was a small mare. It fit me well enough, so I looked down at you, And I asked; Does wearing this make me you?
You did not speak, but you shook your head. I took the dress off, and wore another. How about this one? Surely I must be you if I am wearing something of yours.
Another shake. I took off the dress and picked you up, Holding you close to me And hoping-dreaming-wishing that you would hear my words.
I said, Wearing your things does not make me you. Wearing ugly things does not make you ugly. Wearing pretty things does not make you pretty.
The truly pretty people can wear the ugliest clothes, And the truly ugly can wear the prettiest. Your skin is not your soul, And what others see is not you.
It can become you, if you let it, If you take their ugly words and let them in; But you are beautiful because I love you, And because others love you, And because even if you were to feel alone, Someone out there would miss you.
Nobody misses me, you muttered. I pulled you tighter, and said you were wrong. If nobody missed you, why does the bright sun disappear When you fall asleep? If nobody missed you, Would the stars guide your dreams and make you believe?
Would the world be bright and beautiful when you were gone? Or would there be nothing but darkness and dust Because you were wrong? And trust me my love, for it's true.
From your mouth came the sounds of rivers Of rainy days and the rainbows after And you sang with the gentle curves of the stream Even as the tears cut creeks of their own down your face
Why would you ever go, you used to say, You were going to stay by my side forever, You Promised
I wish I could have told you that promises weren't always kept, And that forever was for the goddesses, But I suppose full bellies and healthy hooves belonged to them as well, Since we lacked those also.
But I couldn't bring myself to tell you, As I couldn't tell you why there were no more fruits on the trees, Or why the ponies in the golden armor took daddy away, Or why the letters said that daddy wouldn't come home, Or why I was lying in bed and not getting up, No matter how much you cried
So instead you sang, the lullabies of the four-hooved, Songs of harvest and health and joy, Songs that ended with, love or my dear, And showed no sign of the opposites
So when my eyes closed, and your songs faded to hiccups, I listen to my heartbeat and sang back to you,
Listen to the earth sing in the morning sun, And bend back the branches of the orchard trees, Lift your eyes to the sky, And you will always see me.
Because no matter, no matter, What your fate does bring, Together we'll be, Forever we'll be,
One of a kind, you finished, Your hoof hot on my side, even though I couldn't see it, But if we are all one of a kind, Aren't we all the same?
I laughed, but it was nothing but breath to you, So I smiled as well, If the birch and the oak and the pine are all trees, Does that mean they are all the same?
That is how it will be for us now, As we are all together as ponies, But different in our skin,
Grow strong like the oak, And tall like the pine, And let your worries free in the wind like the willow's leaves,
Root your heart in your home, And brave out the storm, So you can see the sun again,
It will be hard, but so is winter, And the spring always comes again, After that comes brilliant summer, Then fall leaves of brown and red,
So do not fall in bitter coldness, When all you see is bleak and bare, At least wait until the summer, To let the wind blow through your hair,
You are beautiful, my child, Both in body, and in head, So don't wait for me forever, As I'll be watching where you tread,
Don't forget me, little darling, Even as the sun sets on my part, I'll breathe forever, if you let me, If you leave space for me...
Silence. I felt weightless. The only thing was your
