I bought this print (by Pahuncvo) when I lived in Spain. I was fourteen years old and had a difficult home situation. This print gave me a sense of moving into the future with hope and freedom. It also gave me a feeling that there were going to be long stretches of becoming, that I wasn't stuck in the here and now of who I thought I was. I'm fifty now and it appears I was right!
I've struggled writing the poem, it is still very rough. If any one has constructive criticism please feel free to let me know.
White Horse
She bolts into the storm
to taste the night
on her tongue,
becomes the lantern
in the blue-black midnight.
A twin to the moon
that pulls us up
through the ground of ourselves
into perpetual becoming.
