Footprints in the Windsm # 1201–Horses next door
Footprints in the Windsm # 1201
The horses next door
Watching me in expectant silence
Have me asking
Might they be
A superior intelligence to ours
Gently eating the grass
From my hand
Allowing me to pet their soft noses
Watching me as I pick up sticks,
Mow my grass, do my work
Pondering the trivial things
That hold my attention
Communicating with me
Some eternal truths
Or profound wisdom
In a language
Yet too elevated
For our species to comprehend?
Please pass it on.
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