He moves with the power of a cyclone
and the grace of a sonnet.
Thundering down the path,
feet lightly kissing the ground.

Sinew and bone joined together
in a musical composition.
Flexing and contracting
beneath glistening grey.

The beat driving him on,
stirring the blood.
Pounding, pulsing, nostrils flaring.
Exhilaration, Joy, Exhuberance, Power, Freedom.

Life is to be lived,
devoured in one long stride after another.
There is no separating the steed from the wind
as they flow like mercury across the landscape

Like hot lead streaking from the gun to its mark
and like the bullet, stopping only once impeded.
Once stopped by exterior forces
he stands, blowing and snorting

Poised to go again