I felt the sun on my face. The breeze filtered through my hair. My legs dangled on either side, bare toes touching the wind as my fingers weaved through his mane. The horse’s gallop pounded the earth like a beating heart.
Some of my earliest childhood memories— a place where tripping and falling vanished in the freedom of each ride.
And one day, the wind against my face stopped. My feet stuck to the ground, left to find their own way. And my hand met the white cane. Adolescence called me from my horse into the classroom. Into a world where each step mattered.
Then, like a rolling stampede, Rider moved me toward the horizon once again.
With her, I’m feeling. Trusting. I hear birdsong. I feel the sun’s warmth. I look up—while Rider leads.
Two wild hearts in perfect harmony, reminding the world what it means to be free.
