I feel a rush as I take in the air
I’m approaching the North and my nostrils they flare.
I’m a racehorse trapped in the starting gate tight
Hearing the gunshot it’s time to take flight.
I shake off the saddle & break from the reins
Freedom from both limitation and pain
Skimming the Earth my spirit it soars
With grace and excitement, I need nothing more.
Tricia Schwaba August 2020