In the dawn of the worldwomen were given horses. Creatures shaped from stormand meadow.Their hooves striking sparksof freedom.They rode not with reins,but with whisperstheir souls threading throughthe breath of the beastwildness answering wildness.Love bloomed between them.Not possession but devotiona covenant older than languagesacred as the bond as motherand child,When a woman rides,her spirit unfurlsand the… Continue reading