I stroke her glossy coat
And caress her soft, warm muzzle
I whisper softly to her
I stare into her glassy eye
And for a moment, I do not look elsewhere
She is ready
We come into an open field
The sun is warm,
There is a breeze
She shakes her head and lets out a neigh
I take a deep breath
I am ready
We start out slow
And pick up speed
And then it happens:
We are cantering
I abandon myself in the dance with my horse
We are one
