Equine Therapy: A Poem

I see you

on a horse,

peaceful

as the moon,

no longer struggling

with your world.

And I hear

your anxiety

slowly absorbed

into saddle

and sinew

and mane,

your nerves

smoothed

by the gait

of gentleness.

You are

our child.

So long

our seasons have

turned too quickly

with worry,

our days ground

by the milling

of our stomachs,

frantic you’d

never make it.

The nightmares,

the notes

from teachers,

the shake

of the doctor’s head,

prognosis:

this is the way

it is.

We abandoned rest

long ago.

Yet here

you are,

confident as sunset,

sitting straight,

shoulders back,

a streak of smile

on your serious lips.

You laugh

as the mare

tickles your senses,

lifts her head

to meet your touch,

softly jolts you

into recognition

that you are

as good as anyone,

that you are

loved unconditionally,

that not being able

to speak it

does not equal

less-than,

or lower-than,

or a negative number,

especially when

you’re riding a dream.

We’ve waited

for this time

when you

would be strong

enough to wave

while riding,

happy enough

to giggle,

hopeful enough

to love tomorrows.

Now,

as afternoon drops

behind the field,

we see you,

our child,

standing up

in stirrups,

matching the rhythm

of your carrier,

trotting towards

victory.

You lean forward

to the future,

and maybe,

just maybe,

a good night’s

sleep.

Katherine M. Gotthardt

copyright 2013