The Ride

By Ellen Pearson

                   As I climbed onto Beau’s back, a wave of anxiety pushed me under. I forced my head above. Then, I breathed in the air of excitement.

                   The reins were handed up to me. I snatched them, and rubbed my fingers up and down on the braided leather.

                   From the ground, a voice told me something and adjusted my fingers. Their words echoed faintly around in my head.

                   ‘’Walk,’’ I told myself and the horse,’’ let’s get moving.’’ We did. The smooth bumping took over,  and I could feel myself step out of my cage and into the rain of thoughts.

                   My hand took over, guiding myself and the horse around and around the arena.

                   Even though we were at a walk, in my mind we were trotting, cantering, then, with my hair and Beau’s flying back, we were galloping, galloping to our souls content.

April 2011