Here soft we rest beside a brook
Cool fed from mountain streams
To drink our well-earned respite
And feed our tired dreams.

Though moisture glistens on his back
His breath is slower now
As much as miles of trodden trails
And all ahead allow.

So sweet to us these moments rare
When silence is sublime
I cease my clucking long enough
To hear this noble mime.

His stillness lasts the briefest while
There`s wonder in the breeze
Those restless hooves will thunder hard
And take us where they please.

For these great notions fill his head
With which I can’t compete
And soon begins a new pursuit
That nay-say can’t defeat.

What scent he’s found controls him now
And forces on his stride
And I, well I, as is my wont,
Just hold on for the ride.

Copyright © 1999 Paul Heno