The old Vaquero rolled a smoke
and spoke of unseen forces;
the awful toll that war requires
of soldiers and their horses--
how some believe that war cures war;
of lessons known and told,
why men can’t learn a truth their heart
has not the shape to hold.
“Caballo hearts, old soldiers know,
reflect the hearts of men.
This fact was known when Moses fled
and Pharaoh learned to swim.”
“The horse and soldier share a bond”,
the old hand told the young,
“for Horse, like Man, enjoys the taste
of war upon his tongue.”
“None but a man who’s gone to war
and felt its mighty force
while clinging to a saddle, truly
understands the horse.”
"A mount was shot from under me
in battle near the sea
and death revealed the nature of
the horse’s soul to me."
“All horses share a common soul.
I’ve seen this thing, it’s true--
if you know one, a single horse,
then all are known to you."
The old man tossed his cigarette
and filled his coffee cup
and as he did another there,
a Gringo boy, spoke up.
"If what you say is true, old man,
one day, when men are gone,
the soul of Horse must perish too,
what point in staying on?"
The old man laughed, “You are niave
my cowboy friend. Please try
to open up your heart and mind
and I will tell you why
the words you speak, they make no sense,
I tell you here and now,
no horses in the world? This thing,
our God would not allow."
