The Reason Why

Tiny girl, tiny pony,
Round and round they go.
Tiny girl, tiny pony,
Too fast and then too slow.
She says whoa, and he speeds up,
A kick and he slows down.
Keeps going straight when asked to turn.
When coaxed forward, he turns around.
She begs for right, and he turns left;
She pulls left, and he tugs right.
If she gets him on a circle,
He counterbends just in spite.
A plastic bag becomes a ghost,
But whips have no incentive.
He can only stand a fly at most;
Flailing kids ain't so momentous.

And in the middle of the ring,
Holding her breath and feeling heady,
Is a Girl with a whip in hand,
Tilted back and at the ready.
She stares at uplifted heels
And powerful prancing pony,
Slumping shoulders, open fingers,
Bending elbows, still so bony.
And she worries, and she fusses,
Fixing stirrups countless times.
Tries to signal to the pony
To be supple, sweet, and kind.

Tiny girl, tiny pony,
Round and round they go.
Tiny girl, tiny pony,
Too fast and then too slow.
And then one moment cuts in time,
Where they stop and walk and trot,
Sublime.
And in the moment, love is found.
A breath expelled.
A truth, profound.

Thelwell again. Go look him up.

I need to stop procrastinating papers. But until then.. :)
-- Girl