Where Her Spirit Rides

You can tell from the way she carries the sun

not in her hands,

but in her stride

that she’s never once asked the world for permission.

There’s dust on her boots

and fire in her laugh,

and she looks at you like she’s seen

every truth you’ve ever tried to hide.

She moves easy through open spaces,

but there’s nothing careless about her

every step is a choice,

every glance,

a challenge and a promise all at once.

And then

there’s the moment she turns toward you,

hat tilted just enough

to make you wonder what she’s thinking.

It’s not just attraction

it’s the undeniable pull

of someone who has already decided

you belong in her story.

The wind could scatter the rest of the world,

but here,

with her gaze anchored in yours,

you know you’d follow

across fields,

through storms,

into the places you’ve only dreamed about.

She doesn’t just ride;

she claims the horizon

like it’s been waiting for her all along.