And Allah took a handful of southerly wind, blew His breath over it, and created the horse.... Thou shall fly without wings, and conquer without any sword. Oh, horse. ~Bedouin Legend

He ran again today. I spoke to him, our words without boundaries, even that of species. My hands moved across his back, fluffed his hair, played with his mane. He stood and let me, my eyes wide as I stared in awe. I felt so tiny standing at his side, his power emanated, blinded me, but when I looked at him, and he looked right back at me, eyes soulful and brown, I knew this was a bond stronger than the earth itself.

He rolled in the grass, legs up in the air, cheery snorts coming from his mouth, and I laughed at him and scratched his neck. He stood, shook, and glanced at me as I opened the gate to his pen.

He flew.

But not in the way a bird or a bat does, oh no. He flew with the power, with the spirit I didn't see nor hear nor taste. He flew with the sky as his wings, the air lifting him up to a height I dreamed of. I breathed his name, his tail in the air, the other horses scattering as he bounded past them, bouncing like a newborn colt in the spring time. I waved to him, his ears pricking to look at me, his tail swishing as he slowed to a halt. I told him goodbye.

He told me thank you.

Dedicated to Loco, my horse, the one who was thrown away the same way I was. I will lift you up if you will lift me up. Love you, baby. And stop eating sticks, it's bad for you.