A Blessing

Like a deer that longs for springs of water,

  so my soul longs for you, O God.

My soul thirsts for God, the living God:

  when shall I come and stand before the face of God?

                                                                                    Psalm 41

The two horses have come up the hill

to the trough

 in the mists of frost--

their breathing going out

 into the air

like roots of glass--

like doves from the ark. 

They move like prophets

through crowds of starlight 

dawning.

They move close to the edge

of their boundaries--

 tossing their manes like flames

over fields of ice

 and thirst

and perfect love--

like an olive branch blazing

they have come up the hill

as a blessing

for the seeing and being.