The Horse’s Speaks 6/6/25

Alexandra and aRamses

In the stillness with my horse today.

His wordless voice sang deep within the quiet between us, 

He told me everything.

In his sacred presence, he whispered,

We are not the names we wear,

Nor the roles etched by fear or pride—

Not conqueror, not victim, not the pain that wounds.

These are masks of the fleeting self,

Dramas played upon the stage of illusion.

Our purpose is not carved in conquest,

Nor in the aching hunger of ego’s cry.

We are not here to win, nor to lose,

But to awaken—to remember.

To feel the breath of being pass through stillness,

To dissolve the stories we mistook for truth,

To see with the eyes of soul, not self.

When ego melts like morning mist,

We become what we have always been:

Boundless, radiant, love in motion.

We are creators—silent and singing—

Birthing stars in the space of our surrender.

Not to become more,

But to become whole.

And the horse—he knew all this.

He offered it not in speech,

but in the way he stood,

the way he simply was.

In his stillness, I remembered my own.

Giselle Loveland