On the dry earth, the old horse rolls, surrendering his weight to dust. In her eyes, I see his pain. Years of struggle and tiredness. I feel his constant burden of being a beast. The quiet pain singing in his bones. Muscles that once ran free, begging for rest. He rolls in the dust, choosing relief over pride. Watching him reminds me of how healing sometimes begins by letting go, under the wide, clear sky today, no witnesses, no disturbance. Just peace and healthy silence.
