Poseidon's Horses

You watch them canter to shore

In time with the pulse of the sea

Their eager heads down

Their manes white with moist light--

Diamonds cut from the air of morning.

You wait for the thunder

Of their hooves on dry land--

Even the soft sand

Of this beach--

But the horses turn and return

By some miracle you can’t name

To the dark waters

And Poseidon.

This time and place--a point of return,

From the the sun and light

To the water that sustains you.

It is a dream.

It is everything,

And you are a bystander.

It is  your life.

Return when you want,

A wild horse caressed

In the morning light

And welcome.

This is life, and

It is your dream.