El Alma Del Caballo (the soul of the Horse)

The old Vaquero rolled a smoke
and spoke of unseen forces;
the awful toll that wars require
of soldiers and their horses…

how some believe that war cures war;
of lessons known and told;
why men can’t learn a truth their heart
has not the shape to hold.

“Caballo hearts, old soldiers know,
reflect the hearts of men.
This fact was known when Moses fled
and Pharaoh learned to swim.”

“The horse and soldier share a bond”,
the old hand told the young,
“for Horse, like Man, enjoys the taste
of war upon his tongue.”

“None but a man who’s gone to war
and felt its mighty force,
while clinging to a saddle, truly
understands the horse.”

A mount was shot from under me
in battle near the sea
and death revealed the nature of
the horse’s soul to me."

“All horses share a common soul.
I’ve seen this thing, it’s true…
if you know one, a single horse,
then all are known to you."

The old man tossed his cigarette
and filled his coffee cup…
and as he did another there,
a Gringo boy, spoke up.

"If what you say is true, old man,
when Horse and Man are gone,
the soul of Horse will perish too,
what point in staying on?"

The old man laughed, “You are so young
my cowboy friend but try
to open up your heart and mind
and I will tell you why

these words you speak, they make no sense,
I tell you here and now.
No horses in the world? This thing
our God would not allow."

To Feel

I, light of foot and dark of thought,
give in before the tide
and clutch the pain I, “sigh”, forgot;
the dread I feel inside.

Embracing fear that’s still around
from heartbreaks out of mind,
I bare my chest. Of truth, I’ve found,
I like the naked kind.

Love is a loss I’ll reinvest;
I’ll wager soul and shirt.
To feel the love, I find it best
to reinstall the hurt.

Rekindling Glory

By day it was merely a line;
the bottom in ocean, the top in the sky;
a giant appearing benign
when seen through a distant and innocent eye.

The keeper, with cloth and with rod,
on legs made of granite, his weary brow damp;
ascended like Jacob to God;
rekindling glory with labor and lamp.

The mariners, weary and wise,
returning from ports in the Orient found,
when stars had been lost to their eyes,
a magical beacon for those homeward bound;

A sentinel searching the night;
a modern descendent, who honors the name,
of Pharos; the island of light;
antiquity's wonder of welcoming flame.

Rivers of Time

Dinosaurs waiting for stone to erode,
their skeletons covered, uncovered again;
iron that's forgotten the blood where it flowed
and phosphorous leached from a primitive brain;

Delicate sabers of soft-stepping cats
enshrouded in shimmering oceans of sand;
Strata of relative sediment that's
concealing the bones of the earliest man.

Visible traces of numerous beasts;
the sum of Earth's creatures forever enshrined.
Signs of their passing won't slow in the least
the rivers and runnels of ongoing time.