Maybe, if you know me, you know that I have a love affair with horses. Sadly, I haven't been riding in the last year owing to death of my noble steed.
I dreamed of horses last night, I was rewiring hot wire and the gelding was snuffling around the pasture. Stroking his head I inhaled the deep scent of sweat, alfalfa, and the magic that is horse. His great brown eyes and velvet nose, so soft and so full.
If I do not sit astride a horse in the near future, I am sure that my heart will explode with sorrow—it is almost as if a portion of my soul is missing and I awoke, only this morning, and realized it.
One can not live in halves and pieces, a fraction of a life, or a portion of a day. I am crying out with every fiber of my being: I must gallop up a meadow as spring turns into summer or lose the part of me which I treasure most dearly.
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