Bethany Maxwell Poems
As you step into the arena,
Your heart rushes,
Horse following close behind,
Giving you steady nudges.
You mount yourself slowly into the English saddle
You move toward the jump.
Your feet ready in the stirrups
In jumping position,
As you grow closer to the jump
You are overcome by a weird sensation,
A sensation of happiness, nervousness, and excitement
As you post you feel the heart rate of the horse.
You are both one.
Faster, and faster still,
You feel as if you where flying,
Your horse raises its front legs,
You are ...
Listen to the vines with the thorns
For they are the tricksters
Listen to their wisdom
Listen to the trees
For they are the sages
Listen to them whisper their knowledge in your ear
Listen to the leaves