Guest Ranch Horseback Riding is seldom as intense as Dorothy May Winfield expresses here, but this poem beautifully catches those blissful moments of being “in the zone” with your horse. Thanks, Dorothy (and Stewart!) – please say hello to Scotland for us. We hope to see you again next year!
Mounting my quarter horse, I steel myself for the journey,
A ripple runs through him as my legs gently squeeze his sides,
He moves forward, slowly at first.
I feel his power beneath me,
Flicking the reins he gathers momentum
Faster and faster and faster,
He breathes deeply,
Fire bursts from his flared nostrils.
The plain stretches before us like endless time.
hands pull at my hair, my clothes,
Stripping my mortality.
My heart beats to the rhythm of his hooves.
The ball of fire above, now burns my naked body.
The saddle has gone,
There is nothing between us,
We have become one.
Only my senses are alive,
I am lost, deep within myself.
Our Western Horseback Riding philosophy is on our Riding Horses page.