Healing Sky Dog
Hurt in hide and bone and equine spirit which dances warily in his eyes.
I fan that flame as my life's work. He leans into my hands
as I knead his muscles and coax a shine to his coat.
He is knitting himself together, but he will never be seamless.
Lightning streaks his left shoulder, down his chest
across his flank. Signs of his suffering.
I have shown him my back, the twisted white lightning
that marks forever my own history of bad weather.
By our scars we are made relatives.
I was healed through another's hands
and through my hands I pass this healing to SkyDog.
Feeling his wounds heal, I watch his soul leap up to take the wind
and feel my own do the same.
I can see the flickering wounded soul of a horse.