Solitary Horse

He played in the hills that day, And in the evening he heard the call to gather, And he came running, Eager that he might learn. He listened to the older horses: No horse is lucky till dead ... A horse’s lot is tragedy ... To stand always in the cold … To almost be killed, driven to overwork … And on evenings like this he learned what caused the others to fear and dread, while less and less did he understand himself. Still every evening gathering he would run back to learn to prize his days in the hills little by little less and less. (based on Kierkegaard, Purity of Heart, I learned about through Thomas Oden's Parables)