equum spem

Gentle…easy, Sweet,
      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.

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    Poetry: Slant-Steady
      https://windstrewn.com/2020/07/14/slant-steady/