There's a handful of sand in your pockets
and the desert still clings to my mane,
we bear oceans of wind, salt and fire
far too long we have longed for the rain.
Now September's bright birds have flown southwards,
and winter is closing in fast,
a steed is not meant to remember
as this journey is not meant to last.
One look back. Do I still know who you are?
I've almost forgotten your weight on my back
though I've carried you far.
Now my heart is consumed by desire
now my body resounds in a song,
I'm grateful you chose not to own me,
now it's finally time to belong.
As I drift on the tides of elation
with nothing but motion inside
the days are like grass on the prairie,
and the prairie - - - the prairie is wide.
So I shake of the reigns of remembrance,
sky and sunlight are always the same,
as some sand's carried off with the breezes
I gently let go of my name.
One look back. Do you still know who I am?
When mem'ries are straying who'll mark my soft neighing
as I set out with them?
Just another wild horse in the distance,
just a dappled, swift back in the herd,
and you'll call out in sounds that had meaning
but the thundering drowns out the words.
One look back. The morning air's fragrant and warm.
Lost in feelings, we linger one shimmering moment
then I yield to the storm.
There's a place where the plain meets the ocean,
there's a time when a story must end.
From this hilltop we've almost seen heaven.
What remains is a handful of sand.
(Hidalgo, 4th of July 2007)