A horseback ride . . . and adventure |
As the horse begins to move,
I slip forward on the saddle, To crouch astride the withers, Knees tight against shoulders, Feet high in jockey stirrups. The stallion's pace increases And the wind whispers in my ears, Tugs at my hair and snatches The breath from my lungs. The hooves seem to strike the Ground in a chorus of threes -- Karoom -- Karoom -- Karoom. The vibration shakes my body and lifts My soul into flight. I seem to move Above the horse, weightless in the air, Floating, flying, airborne, free. The speed is exciting, vibrant, And just a little scary. I cannot Breathe, cannot capture the air to Bring it to my lungs, but I am not Breathless. I do not need the air. My flight is effortless, floating Tumultuous, ethereal. Through the fabric of the reins, I can feel the horse's mouth, Feel the lifting and the falling of his head, The stretching and contracting Of the powerful muscular body. Through the reins, the stallion Brings me back, back to him, Back to earth, back into contact With the saddle. I sense the reality And release the floating dream, The effortless flight. My weight in the stirrups once more, I lift the reins, tugging gently To bring the flying hooves Back into contact With the earth once again. We were ethereal, of the heavens, Both I and the stallion, flying, flying, Flying without wings, effortless and free. But now the earth reclaims us and We once again tread upon soil and grass. His strides slow, his breath huffs From wearied lungs, and I straighten My aching spine. Even dreams, it seems, Require effort. |