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Beating of the Hooves

Beating of the Hooves    

© 2010, Olan L. Smith

Wild horses galloping -- their hooves

Pounding the soil and dust,

Delivered by wind, spirals upward toward heaven.

"Take me, oh gentle breeze,

Upward, ever aloft,

So I might speak with God.

I am mere dust, Lord;

I ask one question

Of you, "Why do I suffer?"

The wind whispers,

"Gentle soul -- I created you in my likeness,

And I did suffer.

For you I died and on behalf of you I live.

So, do not speak to me of affliction,

Rather, ask me why I should love you?"

With those words I settle to the earth

As I listen to the beating of the hooves,

And wild horses gallop beyond the ridge.