Out upon the rising sun
The horses gazed, as if were one
Shadowed by the early light
Their empty eyes beheld the sight
Which triggered instinct deep inside
And set in motion rippling hide
As gracefully as the waving manes
That lined their necks like dancing flames
The horses ran to meet the sun
Or, perhaps, to simply run
The herd shot forth with lightning speed
A mass of one; a single steed
For each horse lives to play the role
Of giving the herd a central soul
Helix Of The Wheel 