I have run on middle fingernail through Eolithic morning,
I have thundered down the coach road with the Revolution's warning.
I have carried countless errant knights who never found the grail.
I have strained before the caissons, I have moved the nation's mail.

I've made knights of lowly tribesmen and kings from ranks of peons.
I have given pride and arrogance to riding men for eons.
I have grazed among the lodges and the tepees and the yurts.
I have felt the sting of driving whips, lashes, spurs, and quirts.

I am roguish — I am flighty — I am inbred — I am lowly.
I'm a nightmare — I am wild — I am the horse.
I am gallant and exalted — I am stately — I am noble.
I'm impressive — I am grand — I am the horse.

I have suffered gross indignities from users and from winners,
I have felt the hand of kindness from the losers and the sinners.
I have given for the cruel hand and given for the kind,
Heaved a sigh at Appomattox when surrender had been signed.

I can be as tough as hardened steel — as fragile as a flower.
I know not my endurance and I know not my own power.
I have died with heart exploded 'neath the cheering in the stands —
Calmly stood beneath the hanging noose of vigilante bands.

I have traveled under conqueror and underneath the beaten.
I have never chosen sides — I am the horse.
The world is but a player's stage — my roles have numbered many.
Under blue or under gray — I am the horse.

So I'll run on middle fingernail until the curtain closes,
And I will win your triple crowns and I will wear your roses.
Toward you who took my freedom I've no malice or remorse.
I'll endure — This Is My Year — I am the Horse!

© by Joel Nelson.
Used here with the author's permission.