The Gift of Horses in Our Midst

by Linda M. Bendorf


In my dreams, I see you -- The Gift of Horses in Our Midst.
Buckskin, silver dapple, chestnut, black.
Lakota first called you Sunkakan, holy dog or mystery dog;
Others called you red dog, big dog, elk dog.
Then Seabiscuit, Stormy, Silver Blaze, Flicka.
In song they call you Dust in the Wind,
The Strawberry Roan, The Chestnut Mare. A Horse With No Name.
But here, Medicine you have been named.
I see you Silverwood, Frankie, Nitro, Susy,

I place my hand on your strong shoulder.
Ally, Teacher, Guide. Friend.
On the grayest day, you dress the landscape
with patience, power, strength and knowing.
You see through masks, through closely guarded secrets,
and sharing the space of your sphere, you take me as I am.
Your strong hooves and my feet -- rooted on the same patch of earth.
In silence we breath stillness, peace
and the deep, fluttering breath of calm.
We breathe energy and healing.
Together we overcome obstacles
in the arena or on the trail of life.

I ride the rhythm of your trot; your hooves as smooth as river stone.
The graceful twists and turns spiraling like aerial silks or a gentle breeze.
In the sun, your tail glistens like gossamer threads
and the wildness of your mane invites my heart to dance
Sweat drenched, you carry me through wind swept air.

You neigh and nicker, whinny and sigh, prick up your ears and swivel them toward my face -- reminding me to use my voice.
With gentle wisdom in your eyes and a few sweet nibbles
You see me, too, and you take me as I am.
Help me to remember harmony within the herd, and all the gifts of horses in our midst.

© 2018 by Linda M. Bendorf, Director, Blue Sage Writing