Old Horses New Riders
I spent 2 years and a half, five hours a day
In the saddle, twenty horses in my little remuda, introducing
Horses to children whose ride through life had been such,
That their hearts and their minds were in need of repair.
They told me I was crazy, I'd get a child killed
If I put them up on a horse, worse if I let them ride
Without a rope to keep them from riding away.
The kids were autistic, developmentally delayed, and abused
The scars on their bodies; the scars on their minds
Made it hard for us to go home and sleep every night.
Horses and dogs (there was a border collie hung 'round the barn)
Proved well able to heal wounded children. I'd saddle them up
And off along the woodland trail we'd go riding softly along,
Tiny children on giant horses, quarter horses, ponies, cutting horses, even a burro...
Retired from the rodeo and the ranch, in retirement befriending kids
Who needed a friend that would carry them places they were otherwise
Afraid to go alone. Like the little mute girl, so beaten down she wouldn't speak,
Who one day, while brushing down her horse, began to chatter like a magpie.
Then she began to talk to us since we were the friends of her big friend.
Patient teachers the horses were. Loyal friends. Therapists on the sly.
I miss their patient love, the deep soft eyes, the warm breath on a cool morning
The unexpected nose nuzzling your neck when they sneaked up on you
While you put out their feed, brushed them down and cleaned their hooves.
Best job I ever had. Most loyal friends I ever new. God's equine angels.
© 2024 by Tom King
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