Grass and Dirt

On the happy, golden shore,
Where the faithful part no more,
When the storms of life are over, meet me there;
Where the night dissolves away
Into pure and perfect day,
I am going home to stay, meet me there.
Meet me there, meet me there,
Where the tree of life is blooming, meet me there;
When the storms of life are o’er,
On the happy golden shore,
Where the faithful part no more, meet me there.
~Fanny J. Crosby

He was looking beyond the grass out onto the horizon when I approached. It was just a glance over his shoulder at me then returned to just watching the plains .. his plains. It made me curious as to what he could see so I moved in closer, standing there just watching too. It was that way for a long time, side by side until he turned to look at me again. No saddle, no blanket. I pulled on his mane, stuck a boot sole into a shoulder and swung up on his back. I wasn't expecting him to buck or throw me. I wasn't there to break him. I just wasn't tall enough to see. There is no telling how long we were there together that way. It seemed like forever, and felt like the blink of an eye. I did have to hug that lanky neck to lean precariously over so I could see him eye to eye. There was that mirror again, with all of the grass, the rolling vastness of the plains and me in there. Sort of choked me up a little, enough I slithered off to land on my feet in a puff of dust. When I headed back toward the harigga, he stood there for a few more ehn then just turned to watch me walk away.