Graceful neck arching,
mane behind-flying,
lively prancing through life’s landscape,
comes a filly
bright and beautiful.
Days: perfect diamonds
as she glitters on.
Eyes wide, heart open, soul singing–
true, fine filly–
galloping.
Long distance runner,
no sprinter is she.
Gaelic storm thoroughbred racer;
breathing filament
of heavenly grace.
But, hooves must clatter
o’er stony, tough turf
and, rearing, paw the air in frustration.
Neigh! Disabled!
Stumble, falter, fall.
Steel-saddled, she strains
thrice as hard to run
a race she just won’t be denied.
Long, each day’s race;
exhausted fully.
Dusk brings no respite,
just a chance to cry.
Release of pent-up emotion.
Sleep the enemy
for one who needs time.
Night filly (night owl)
dreading your night terrors,
lay down your tears before me.
Daisy dewdrops
we’ll make of these tears.
Dawn will come again
wrapping aurora
arms around your lonely sadness.
Lilac kisses
will soothe and heal you.
And you’ll struggle to
delicate forelegs
from wobbly, scarred knees,
to race anew
with winged purpose.
For Wind is a friend
and flight almost yours
if you harness and channel your pain.
Focus on truth
and shrug off all else.
Fight whatever frightens
racing night fillies.
Dash those crushing nightmares.
Just run, fierce one.
Just run, and you win.
