Flowing Clear and Swift

She hadn't sat astride a horse in twenty years.
But its wide, curvaceous back, silk-spun,
Gently rising and falling with each breath,
Seemed warmly familiar.
She felt as a centaur, and it was
Both comforting and empowering.

Clambering slowly down the narrow,
They hugged the banks of the creek,
The same one she'd explored as a child,
But both had altered dramatically.
Years, cares, debris had left their mark.
Indelible? Inalterable? Inevitable?

How to loosen the clogs,
To restore freshness and flow,
Remove impurities, restore
Agility and progress?
Peel away the weeds and fog
To reveal beauty concealed?

As one, she, the horse, the water,
Stood together for a moment or
Hours, it seemed, and joined
To pray for this to happen,
To make it happen, to be once
Again what they once were.

A clean, fresh, swift flow that
Reflected the sunlight as jewels.

A muscular, mighty beast that
Governed soil and shrub and trail.

A radiant woman, glowing, who
Always galloped to the next horizon.