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Unkown
Calmness came over him like a warm blanket in the middle of winter. The utter loudness of his silence stewed within him like a stampede heard of buffalo. Skies became a darker shade of blue, when the sun tucked in behind a marshmallow shaped cloud. Beads of sweat dried on his sun beaten skin, mixing in with the settling dust stirring in the air.
The rustic wooden fence had just the right amount of strength to hold him. With each movement of his body you could hear the weakening of the wood and nails composing the structure. Each pass of his horse kicked up a cool musty breeze, air that was welcomed on these hot days, if only to give him relief for a moment from the sun. The perched, sun weathered, horseman hoped to the ground after one more pass from his mount to the ground. With only a bridle in hand he stood grounded to the earth with a peaceful stance about him. One knee bent with his weight on the other, in his right arm a bridle. His eyes squinting from the brightness of a summer day the young man stood there in the middle of the horses stomping grounds, calm. At that moment he whistled with all his lung power. The painted mount stopped on a dime, and galloped straight to his master. The scene was about the same as watching a man call his dog from a field.
The two stood face to face in the middle of that dirt arena, respect wasn’t hard to find, each embraced the other’s existence. The painted mount lowered his head to allow the young man to proceed with putting the bit in the horse’s mouth. He then lifted the bridle over the ears and cinched the bridle straps. A swift swing of the leg and a grip on the mane was all that he needed to mount. Now, these two spirits were truly at one. There is no horse and rider, but only spirits feeding off one another.
The painted mount stood sturdy and strong as his master grabbed hold of the reins. The young horseman sat tall and proud, there seemed to be nothing in his world but that moment. With a little pressure the horse began to move with a walk. They moved as one allowing the horse to have six legs rather than four, and their motions melted into one movement. Blissfulness hit both of their senses as their speed picked up. Moving closer to the edge they let go of all fear. Over the edge of a hill to yet another adventure through the sagebrush, and the loss of all ties to any place that would be called home. Racing down the hill adrenaline pumps through their blood causing that once calmness turns into pure thrill.
What this young man doesn’t know that what is yet to come will not involve happiness, joy, thrill or love. The only thing waiting for him at the end of his decent is the unpromising loneliness that comes from his wondering. The loneliness of never holding on to anything or anyone too long, and always leaving something good behind.
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Live.....long...well...loved....and well written!
Last edited by crowe1120 : 05-05-2008 at 02:06 AM.
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