12/19/2025
✨ The One Who Remembers the Way
He looks at you
as if he has known you
before your first name,
before your fear learned language.
The wind has lived in his mane for centuries.
You can see it—
the way each strand carries a story
not spoken, only endured.
The elders say
the horse was born between worlds—
one hoof in the visible,
one hoof in spirit.
That is why he does not rush.
That is why he waits
until your breath remembers
how to be honest.
He carries no saddle,
no command,
only the quiet agreement
between heart and horizon.
When you stand before him,
your past does not chase you.
It listens.
Leaves gather in his shadow,
recognizing kin.
Even the silence bends closer.
The earth lowers its voice
when he breathes.
If you ask him for strength,
he will give you steadiness.
If you ask him for direction,
he will give you stillness
until the answer rises on its own.
He does not move you forward.
He reminds you
that you were never lost.
And when you turn away,
something ancient inside you
walks differently—
as if a forgotten path
has quietly opened
beneath your feet.
By Elvis Becker
