To a Horse

Through a lavender meadow he’ll run, the white, black and brown spotted mule. Hooves raise dust clouds under golden sun, beckoning tomorrow’s fresh morning air, cool. His eyes are all knowing, a journey never done. To children, these galloping beasts hold a history of unspoken treks, safe and strong - an everlasting calm. Lashes thick and mane coarse, their strength is a mystery mapped by lesser men, measured by hand and palm. His gait is one of purpose, canter confident of a victory.