Saturday, March 5, 2016

Sayra Flores writes

Wild Horses

I think I hear horses on the roof!” my mother would say in the middle of the night,
And my father would rise from the bed, pull his boots on, get his shotgun,
Go out into the night and shoot his gun up at the stars, return to their bed and say,
It's ok, I got rid of them, you can go back to sleep now,” his voice patient and kind,
My mother might already be asleep, or on the edge, and she could let go till morning.

In the days on the ranch if we could catch the horses in the corral we could ride them.
After the laborious saddling we would ride to our post office town, my cousin and me.
Short-cutting through orchards, the horses would gallop under the low branches
And our young teenage backs would bend low over the saddle horns, holding tight
As the wild horses veered close to the trees, trying to scrape us off, so they could run free.

Maybe they wanted to run free of us up to the green hills where they could graze on their own,
Or just turn back, with their burden emptied on the orchard floor, and race back to their barn.
Even better, if we hadn't cinched the saddle tight enough, and they scraped the saddle off
Against the trees, they could gallop faster to a dead run, pounding against the earth until
They left it and took the big leap up onto the roof of a ranch house, stationed for night.

Today I sit cross-legged early in the dawn, focused on my breath, practicing meditation,
And the wild horses are racing past my window, pulling my mind into the orchards and
Then up onto the roof, galloping faster and faster, racing with my cousin, both of us
Laughing as we lose our grip and slip to the ground, the horses run off, reins flying.
I race after them, wanting to catch them and calm them and tame the wild horses of my mind.
 Image result for mustang horses images

1 comment:

  1. The horse has long been associated with freedom and sexuality, but the latter has seldom been as clearly and forcibly expressed as in this bit of banter in the 1837 play, "The Love-Chase" by James Sheridan Knowles. (The first bit of dialogue is often reprinted in horse anthologies, but the second, more explicit, has been mostly ignored.)

    Constance: What delight
    To back the flying steed, that challenges
    The wind for speed! - seems native more of air
    Than earth! - whose burden only lends him fire! -
    Whose soul, in his task, turns labour into sport;
    Who makes your pastime his! I sit him now!
    He takes away my breath! He makes me reel!
    I touch not earth - I see not - hear not. All
    Is ecstasy of motion!

    Wildrake: You are used,
    I see, to the chase.

    Constance: I am, sir! Then the leap,
    To see the saucy barrier, and know
    The mettle that can clear it! Then, your time
    To prove you master of the manege. Now
    You keep him well together for a space,
    Both horse and rider braced as you were one,
    Scanning the distance -- then you give him rein,
    And let him fly at it, and o'er he goes
    Light as a bird on wing.

    Wildrake: 'Twere a bold leap,
    I see, that turn'd you, madam.


Join the conversation! What is your reaction to the post?