by Lisa Marie Popp
The easiest way to describe him
is to compare him with the rest of the world
A rider is a man
from his birth,
He was born in a stable
on the back of the horse of time
with him, the heart argued, not the mind
with aching arms and bleeding feet
he died where the range and ocean meet,
just laid down on the quiet lap of Earth
Cool and deep,
where the wind is asleep,
floats the Sea of Faith, Equestrian Dreams,
and the needle, with an equal mind,
the compass can’t tell which way is best
By man and horse and the crest.
Now the great winds shoreward flow
Now the salt tears seaward flow
while the wild white horses play
chafe and gallup and toss in he spray
Boot, rider, to horse and away.
He had a heart of furious fancies
of which he was commander
with a burning spear
and a horse of air
to the wilderness he’d wander
and i’d look after all the phantasmic philosophies
in which he was a part-time philanderer.
In all the live murmur of a Summer’s day,
He who loses himself, loses his misery
with a cup of beer
and a fast Horse near.
There is no secret so close
as that between a Rider
and his Horse.
The omnipotent art of high equitations,
he’d sigh a certain way
and the horse came spurring in a blaze,
in truth, he was a stealing steed
Running like the wind,
challenging the weather
He flung himself upon the beast
and rode madly off in all directions,
His life purpose was indeed
to someday find
another Horse of that color.
Was it yesterday
they rode away,
Was I long alone?
Solemn shadows on the lonely land,
Boot, Rider, to Horse still
Black horses come flying by
Round the world with unshut eye
Never stop, never stay,
never tried
And the pale horse
who stood still and heard the dreadful cry,
the roar of some pained lion who all day
walked with the hunter’s bullet in his side
and comes at night to die upon the sand.
When life seems tedious as a tired horse
and walking thru rainwater my arm stings
I close salty eyes
and see to my surprise
A wish
for a Horse with wings.
The pounding beat of gallop sings
thru vivid veins vision painlessly flows:
To see a Lady upon a White Horse,
and she shall have music
wherever she goes!
