Out Riding

I have seen, Time and time again, our rise and fall But not what passes between. However, my reflection stays the same. As I ride through the brush and green mesquite Late in the evening. And while the sun goes, Spilling the sights, and casting shadows far in their elongated flight Jetting towards the night High above and below alike, another day is reclaimed by the west. And, within that balance struck from up on a horses back lies behind the creaking tack a way, past the minutia. A place, where nights and days fade for the fluid movements between them. And so, begins a subtle breeze I hadn't noticed it before it had already past me As if a response to the sun-day's sending gleaming rings like tangerine And facing the applause I pause to watch the wind run fingers through the hairlike grass A tender act, quite loving in fact As if this moment they share along with a deep sadness to part. However, they must know that the spring cannot begin without either of them both and so the grass and wind promise to unite again when the time is right. No fear of the night and heedless of their most distant dreams Deepest sleeps or even faced with the stark differences their lives have seen To find each-other, no matter the cold and never let go of knowing high hopes can lead to things far larger than them both. -And perhaps someday So will I.