A horse, a creature of power, so tall and so grand,
With all its muscles like iron and fire in his soul,
Still bows to the pressure on earth and rests,
It lets go of its pride and just to feel himself whole again.
If the mighty creature must pause and lay still,
All to heal in the silence and soften it's load,
Why must we not quiet the music in our heart and
And honor our bodies to we rest.
