Tuesday, 6 July 2010

In Words

put it into words, he says,
and for my life, I cannot begin
to describe such
sin, such guilt,
such pleasure as lies,
in these
stolen moments
of sublime
which perhaps
we treasure where we shouldn’t.

But surely the rest of the world
wouldn’t know
or understand,
that to walk simply,
hand in hand with
one must first
speak it aloud –
to a kindred spirit,
to a fellow wandering
cloud who longs to be free, who sees
unearthly beauty,
in rain walks and holy ground mist
and listens
when the horses speak.

A tribute to the draw of the serenity & freedom to be found on horseback.


  1. I love the imagery of the horses. This isn't the first time I've seen them. Very good feelings here. Love your work Amy.

  2. I have never ridden a horse, but know many people who do and your lovely poem clearly lets me understand what they are trying to say when they explain the feeling of the ride.

  3. I grew up with horses and that feeling of bunched power under you, oh man it's like nothing else.

    "cloud who longs to be free," Really nailed it for me. We lived near train tracks and my god being on a horse who NEEDS to race a train? You can almost see the essence of the horse spirit straining for release in moments like that.

    This was lovely Amy.

    Thanks for the heads up Carrie.