There is no other but me—
Save Destiny, but She was with you already,
Holding you steady in your stall
And warm-kept by the wall of morrow.
You’ve not rested, I can see;
Upon my knee, I discern no sorrow
In the anxiety of your hoof-stirred straw;
Else, I’d know in the draw of your breath
If the death of boredom had slaked
Your lust for the chase.
Trust me, we both seek in the haggard
Face of time, a wrinkle through
Which to pass, a crease of rhyme, of reason,
As to our steepled path of pain.
We will gain it all, now, in one night’s gallop:
The truth atop a stopless stride,
Through pride and penchant for ruddy road;
We’ll ride, tonight and after the moon,
For the sunrise, until right and high—
With swoon and neigh,
Having strode strongly into our by-and-by—
We, both, will rest for what we endure
In the way and wish and wandering why
Either of us ever were.