...Choose to chance the rapids, and dare to dance the tides... -- Open Meadows

Too many times we stand aside
And let the waters slip away
'Til what we put off 'til tomorrow
Has now become today
So don't you sit upon the shoreline
And say you're satisfied
Choose to chance the rapids
And dare to dance the tide...
Yes, I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry
Like a bird upon the wind
These waters are my sky
I'll never reach my destination
If I never try
So I will sail my vessel
'Til the river runs dry...

A soft zephyr wound it's way through the gently hilled meaodw, lifting the dark mane of the stallion, bringing to his blackened 'nares the scent of another. Slowly raising his head, his brown eyes traced the figure of the mare, slightly inquisitive, yet a touch sad, though that was hidden as best possible. Soft raven-tipped petals swiveled in the direction of the fatale, hearing her hooves, and as her lithe figure rounded a hill, traced it with his eyes.

Seeing she was coming closer, and hearing her sound, he tossed his own head, arching his neck, and whisking his tail, a hoof pawing the ground in unspoken invitation. Her pounding form neared him, and he began slowly, a trot, and as she neared even closer, broke into a canter, and upon her form reaching close to his, he form stretched easily into a gallop, and once more, his head stretched out, he half-smiled at the speed. Suprisingly enough, she kept stride with his fast-moving from. His silver body glistened in the early light, his legs reaching for ground, and pulling it away.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at her, curious, and snorted, and his head low as it could go, almost even with his tail as he reached for ground, attempting to pull away, tail streaming behind him.

.Choose to chance the rapids.
...And dare to dance the tide...

Picture:Lorn
Lyrics:GarthBrooks\VictoriaShaw