Remember Me

I knew you once, long ago,

when your feet were bare and your heart was whole.

When you listened to my whisper, ran wild in my air,

when you and I—we were everywhere.

Do you remember?

You ran through my golden fields with laughter wide,

felt my breath in the wind at your side.

You rested beneath my swaying trees,

tangled your fingers in my rustling leaves.

You once lay against my rivers cool,

let my waves teach you where water pools.

You raced with the stallion, free and fast,

hooves thundering, no future, no past.

You knew me then.

I spoke through the trembling grass at dawn,

through the hush of night, through the sparrow’s song.

The great oak hummed secrets deep in its rings,

the wolf’s low howl told of ancient things.

But then… you grew.

The world pulled you far from my touch,

taught you numbers, rules, and not too much.

It filled your hands with things to own,

but left your spirit lost, alone.

Did you notice when my voice grew dim,

when the walls rose high and the noise crept in?

When the wild horse became only a name,

when the river was crossed but never the same?

You searched for joy in hollow things,

in silver coins and diamond rings.

But the laughter you lost, the wonder untold,

was never in things—it was in your soul.

And still, I wait.

I watch as you rush, as you worry, as you fall,

as you ache for something you can’t name at all.

But I know, and I see, and I call you still,

back to the meadow, the mountain, the hill.

Come back to the place where you once were free,

where the stallion runs and the sky breathes deep.

Come back to the roots, the waves, the stone,

come back to the place where you are known.

Let my wind undo what time has made tight,

let my rain wash clean what weighs down the light.

Let your hands touch my earth, let your feet feel me near,

let your heart beat again without sorrow or fear.

Do you hear me?

I have not left. I never will.

I am the river, the horse, the hill.

I am the quiet that soothes your chest,

the voice inside that calls you blessed.

Your struggle, your sorrow, your aching plea—

it is not because you lost time,

it is because you lost me.

But I am here, waiting near,

step from the noise, and I will appear.

Come home, dear child, the way is free.

Come home to yourself.

Come… remember me.

Introduction

Since the dawn of time, humanity has wandered the vast landscapes of existence, yearning to fill a mysterious void—a quiet ache that whispers of something forgotten, something longed for but unseen. This void calls us home, not to a place but to a state of being—a sanctuary of peace, belonging, and love. Yet, in our search, we have often turned outward, pursuing fleeting dreams of fame, wealth, and power. We have sought answers in doctrines and dogmas, in the applause of others, and in the glittering illusions of the material world. And still, the void remains, waiting patiently for us to turn inward and remember.

What if this void is not emptiness, but fullness? What if it is not a wound, but a wellspring—a sacred space where the eternal resides, inviting us to rediscover our true selves? Throughout history, sages and seekers have illuminated this path, showing us that the answer is not “out there,” but within. They teach us that by facing the dark abyss of the unknown, we awaken to the boundless light of the I AM—a presence that flows through all things, connecting us to the infinite web of life.

This path to awakening is not new. It has been whispered in the winds of ancient forests, etched into sacred stones, and sung by the rivers of time. From the Druidic groves to the Vedas, from the Tao Te Ching to the quiet wisdom of nature, the message has always been the same: the answers we seek are already within us, waiting to be remembered. Yet, in the clamor of modern life, we have forgotten how to listen.

Amidst this forgetting, there is one teacher who has never abandoned us—a sacred guide who has walked beside us through the pages of history, carrying us across battlefields, through deserts, and into the very heart of civilization. This teacher is the horse.

To many, the horse is a symbol of power, a beast of burden, or a partner in sport. Yet those who have truly listened know that the horse is far more than this. They are a divine messenger, a bridge between the seen and unseen, a reflection of the truths we have long forgotten. The horse carries within it the wisdom of the cosmos, speaking not in words but in the silent language of the soul.

What is most extraordinary is this: despite centuries of being misunderstood, used, and even mistreated, the horse remains willing to teach us. With patience and compassion, it invites us to step beyond our illusions, to shed the armor of ego, and to rediscover the unity that connects all life. The horse does not judge our failings or demand perfection. Instead, it holds up a mirror, reflecting our innermost selves with gentle clarity.

The Black Stallion: A Timeless Connection

I’ve always dreamt of horses. I often imagined myself as one, my free spirit galloping through open fields and shadowy forests, my mane flowing in the wind. My younger years were spent deeply connected to nature, befriending the forest creatures and seeking solace among the trees. Life felt expansive, as if I were standing in a vast pasture or at the edge of a cliff, observing the puzzling behaviors of people from afar. Even at school, I remained an observer, detached from the social whirlwind, my heart forever longing for the embrace of nature.

Though I never had horses growing up, I became one in my imagination, embodying their freedom and grace. In my dreams, they were mystical beings, carrying me into realms of magic, mystery, and beauty. As the youngest of six children, I was often left to explore the woods near our home in Virginia. Each summer day was a boundless adventure, spent from dawn until dinner in the company of nature’s spirits. My older sisters often called me a dreamer, but their cynicism never dimmed my wonder. If anything, it encouraged me to delve deeper into the magical realms the forest offered.

Those formative years shaped my soul. Even when our family moved from Virginia to the outskirts of Austin, Texas, the spirit of the forest never left me. While the lush woods of my childhood were gone, I sought the essence of nature in this new land. It was here, amid golden pastures, that I encountered a black stallion—a meeting that would forever change my life.

The moment our eyes met something unspoken past between us a silent understanding beyond words perhaps he was curious about the strange human standing at the edge of his world while I was utterly captivated by his untamed beauty and powerful presence. But in that instant through his eyes I felt something stir deep within me, something familiar, a wild spirit I had shared among the forest of Virginia.  The boundary between worlds dissolved blending into a single seamless existence.  That Universal connection, the one I had felt so purely in the woods now radiated between us flowing through his gaze wrapping around me like an embrace.

At first, I lingered by the fence, marveling at his magnificence as he sniffed and snorted, testing the air between us. Then, with cautious trust, he invited me into his pasture. What began as tentative steps turned into a sacred dance. Day after day, we ran together, his powerful strides mirroring my own jubilant sprints. He taught me to shed my human pretenses and become one with the rhythm of the earth. Though I was only twelve, I felt as if I had been chosen by some ancient, divine force to share in his world.

He was a being of light and shadow, a creature who embodied the untamed essence of the universe. When he ran, the earth seemed to quake beneath his hooves, and when he reared, it was as if he commanded the heavens themselves. Despite his immense power, he made me feel safe, cherished, and protected. Together, we created a world apart, a realm where time ceased to exist, and only the sacred dance of our connection remained.

But this dreamlike union was not to last. One afternoon, as we played in his pasture, an old man appeared, yelling and waving his cowboy hat. His shouts shattered our world. The stallion bolted, and I stood frozen as the man’s angry words pierced the air: “Get away from him! He’s dangerous! You’ll get hurt!” His accusations felt like arrows, driving me from the only place I wanted to be. Tears blurred my vision as I fled, my heart breaking with each step.

The next day, I returned to the pasture, hoping against hope to see my friend again. But he was gone, and the field stood empty. Day after day, I searched for him, only to be met with silence and longing. The bond we had shared was severed, and my heart ached with the loss of that sacred connection. Yet, even in his absence, he remained a part of me. His spirit lingered, a constant presence in my dreams and daydreams. I saw him in the shadows of trees, in the play of light on the horizon, and in the rhythm of the world around me.

One stormy night, as thunder shook the heavens and lightning lit up the sky, I lay in my bed, consumed by grief. The storm seemed to echo my sorrow, each crack of thunder a reminder of the bond that had been torn away. But then, as a bolt of lightning illuminated the world outside my window, I saw it—a tree shaped like my black stallion, rearing toward the sky. In that moment, I knew he was not truly gone. His spirit lived on, a beacon of hope and love that would guide me forever.

Years passed, and though I grew older, the stallion’s presence never left me. He ran alongside the bus as I gazed out the window, grazed quietly on the lawns outside my classrooms, and danced in the corners of my mind. He was a constant reminder of the divine, a symbol of the sacred bond between human and horse, spirit and earth.

Though my time with the Black Stallion was fleeting, the imprint he left on my soul was eternal. He had opened a door—one that could never be closed. Though he was taken from me, the wisdom he shared remained, pulsing like an ember in my heart. And when I brought my three beautiful daughters into this world, I knew with unwavering certainty that I would not let them grow without knowing the magic of nature, the sacred presence of the horse, and the unspoken truths that had once been whispered to me beneath his dark, knowing gaze.

Despite many obstacles, I made it my life’s devotion to ensure they would live not just beside nature, but within it. I carried them to a land where rivers ran wild and forests stood deep and ancient, where they could play and explore, unburdened by the world’s expectations. There, among the trees and under the watchful eyes of our horses, they grew—learning not only the ways of the earth, but the wisdom of the herd.

From our great Frisian mare Wodi, to Starry, to the noble stallions Descarat, Navarre, and Ramses, and the countless beloved horses who graced our lives over the years, my daughters were raised in the presence of beings who spoke not in words, but in truth. The horses were their teachers as much as I was—perhaps more so. And through them, my daughters were not shaped into something new, but returned to who they had always been.

The Black Stallion’s story did not end with me. It continues, ever unfolding, in the lives of my daughters, in the silent knowing of our herd, and in the sanctuary we have built—not just of land and trees, but of spirit. It is here, in this sacred space, that love, wisdom, and the innate virtues we are all born with are nurtured, not stripped away.

And as I watch my daughters now, moving in harmony with the horses, their laughter carried on the wind, aligned with their wisdom, I see it—what I once glimpsed through the stallion’s eyes.

I see home.

And I know that the path I walked—the loss, the longing, the journey—was always meant to lead here.

To this life.

To this love.

To them.

Invitation to the Path

The story of the black stallion is not just my story—it is an invitation. It is a call to remember the sacred bond we share with nature and her creatures, a bond that transcends time and space. Through the silent wisdom of the horse, we are offered a path back to ourselves, a way to rediscover the divine essence that flows through all life.

This journey is not for the faint of heart. It requires courage—the courage to let go of the illusions that bind us, to face the void within, and to trust the guidance of a teacher who speaks without words. The horse invites us to step into the unknown, to embrace the rhythm of life that pulses through the earth and sky, and to awaken to the truth that we are not separate, but one with the great tapestry of existence.

Will you accept the invitation? Will you dare to step beyond the confines of the ego and into the boundless freedom of the soul? The horse waits, patient and knowing, ready to guide you on the path to unity, wisdom, and peace. All you must do is take the first step.

Giselle Loveland