It’s been a while since I had chocolate ice cream.
It has become a delicacy now, in tandem with long, hot showers, garbage disposals and dishwashers.
I don’t really miss them. Well, maybe chocolate ice cream.
In the west Texas desert, the summer is so hot that warm feels cool, the inside calls more than the outside and the day starts early and ends late. The stars are shy tonight and with a sip of wine - as has become my custom - I lean back and close my eyes. A warm breeze dusts the hair across my face and lightning flashes in the distance. Teasing.
The horses throw their hay and stomp their way around the bale. A steady symphony of crickets the only other sound to be heard.
There must be some profound moment here, or so you would think. But there is only being. There is only the soaking of it in and letting it move through like blood in your veins. Anchoring you to this moment forever.
Or until tomorrow Humor me ‘til it’s over.
Who am I when nobody’s looking, and where do I go when they are?
I have ridden myself into boldness and that is where I make my mistakes.
With a horse you must always remember.
I look through the scars, the lines and soft parts which used to be hard.
Through the cactus thorns and quicksand. The should haves and did nots.
The words unspoken and only felt. They hurt just the same, don’t they?
But when I slide my foot into that stirrup, mount and pull the reins around my thoughts rest, stirred only by the wind. Stoked only by the sound of hoof-steps.
And my heart opens.
The earth moves and lifts, spinning into the nothingness above, melting into blue then falling among the clouds, fibers shifting and stretching - breathing in and out with a slow spiraling exhale.
I am lost in this world. In the love of it. For what can you feel here but small?
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