In the barn this morning, a poem of sorts kept running through my thoughts. OK, maybe not running. Nothing much runs through my mind or legs in the morning... or any other time for that matter. But there were a few morning musings milling about in the gray matter; a thought or two about the sweet peace found in early morning chores and damp snorting horses. A soul provoking stillness echoes through the stalls in the post dawn moments of the day. White gray mist seeps around the open doorways creating a dreamy haze ripe with weighty thoughts and soulful sighs. The snorting and pawing has stopped and the sated equines munch as if in a chorus their morning hay. No symphony ever sounded sweeter than a silence broken only by the poetic crunching of a contented horse.