Miles

I don’t count miles when I ride,

it’s not about them anyway.

Often, I turn or cut back before trail end.

Before climbing the summit –

but always satisfied.

My Horseback,

is about moving through the world at 2 mph instead of 70.

It’s about deep breaths and dropped shoulders.

About grounding to the animal below and stretching into sky above.

And he’s taught me to listen, this horse.

He’s taught me to trust –

something so clouded by the missed-turns

and missed-steps of the past.

I’ve heard it said only men will sacrifice their lives for another.

I have found this to be untrue.

Much like the dog who gives at her own expense,

I too have strained against chains.

I have stripped a smile from my face and gifted it to another.

Pinned dreams on a cork board,

something I’ll get to later I said.

I never did.

But I’ve stood in front of snarling beasts to protect my child.

In front of snarling humans to protect my heart.

I let it bleed for too long

you see.

There is a warrior here, hidden.

She rides shotgun with my soul.

She knows not age or doubt but rises from ashes and moves in the wind,

shedding scars and scabs as she goes.

We ride together through forest and desert.

Through scattered bones -

the dogs bring them to us.

Signs of life and death,

unknown and only imagined.

So little seen and rarely felt.

I've felt it.

It is that moment when you realize what you’ve missed.

How much of my story can be told, I don’t know.

My memories are shady, sometimes blank.

Sometimes bubbling over

like an underground spring in the desert.

But a spring in the desert is gold

and so we live,

tossing bones aside.

Pissing off some people.

Likely they were just angry to begin with.

                  - Giddy Up My Friend