Spring Ritual

First spring ride; slippery slop on the ground
Snow barely melted, brown patchy grass exposed,
An eager rider whose spirit aches
for another day, another ride.

Days are longer now, temperate, more welcoming.
Light has returned to the world on an axis of provisional hope.
Robins bring signs of the promise of fresh birth bursting open
to another day, another ride.

Schedule time to groom away nasty winter hair,
Clean and condition dusty, barn-stored tack.
Take in the scent of horse, leather and unspoiled air
before another day, another ride.

Equine energy ready to explore, explode with
Exotic spring breezes, exhilarating scents riding the wind
bringing fresh heady horse-exclusive anticipation
of another day, another ride.

Spirituality is gushing from the ground, sprouting
from the trees, singing high in the clouds.
Token raindrops nourish the receptive earth
for another day, another ride.

Pines have never smelled so wholesome, so sensual.
The train whistle an almost holy thing to stop and listen to
As horse and rider begin anew their seasonal ritual
of another day, another ride.

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Fear - a devilish ghost waiting to attack at the drop of a pin
At 64 fear confronts me every time I want to ride a green horse.
Young and fresh they make moves I can no longer out-maneuver.
Fear of pain, fear of injury, fear of the worst.

Training and riding my whole life, well since five.
I lost my trusted friend of 22 years, Sage, last year.
Something happened to me, to my life.
Something I can't explain and can't overcome, fear.

Sunshine -  I've been working on for ten years
But can't bring myself to trust her, or is it me I don't trust?
Balance not what it was, reactions not crisp and quick as once.
Training is not what it used to be, not what it must.

And frankly I'm just plain tired.
I don't want to work at relaxation any more.
I just want it to be there, like it was on Sage.
That is my main purpose for riding Sunshine or any horse.

I can relax on ShyAnne, but  she is in the same limited boat I am in.
Her feet no long support my and her own weight for very far.
She has navicular disease and only short rides are acceptable
Without being in pain, like I am most of the time. Not fair to her.

Not fair to me, when I dismount and can't hold my own weight
Without steadying myself against the horse.
Hips, feet, knees, add to fear and my body is in revolt
Every time I mount for the thing I love most in this world.

Still I persist, I ride whenever I can
Whenever I have found no excuse not to ride,
When I can no longer go without that connection
When I push the fear down deep aside.