Theirs the heart, and wind, the spirit
Powering the fearsome stride
On they gallop, over beaches
Reaching with their deep lungs heaving,
With their reaching faces breathing
Deep the sea-air thick around them,
Reaching, reaching, striding, running
Where the sands of Ground reside,
Pounding on, the sea beside.
This may be doggerel about horserel but there is a knot of some truth in it; the wise heart is the master of the life. The courage to reach for and change the forces of existence is your heritage, guided by such a heart. Listen truly to it and you get to own the horses, and ride the wild sea besides.