The one thing a horse knows
is that nothing is forced
because of the way things are true
are through the tender
space between rider and steed
a synchronized pace alternating
need and freedom

They’ll never know each other in the ways they conceive of their being
but trust comes unspoken
between things not so separate
breathing in
the rhythm of life itself
the unease of strain mingles with
the thrill of release
a streaming present that never ends

the words mix and dissipate
thoughts compare and contrast
in my guts like tapeworms
that eat up the sweet bits
in between the daily struggle

It’s ok.
Even if it’s not ok
I won’t let myself love
any less for it
It’s my greatest human gift
I have
people come
people go
what begins
transformed unrecognizable
in what comes next
yet essentially the same
as what was left

It’s a planned series of losses
so I do my best
in every interaction
I study every move
I observe myself
Body Voice and Mind
until it’s a habit
what rises from the depths
is an expression of me
facets reflected back
in the in the landscapes I meet
I’ve learned
the thrill is in release