A time when the blood's up in horses and man
When hoofbeat and heartbeat thud hard as they can;
When sanity, caution, and couth fly away,
Berserker-like joys turning sober eyes fey.

The herd's into timber and not slowed a lick
We're racing full tilt where I know it's too thick;
We're taunting the Fates who will flip the next card,
But there's joy in the madness and riding this hard.

Frustration's behind and fear never rose
Elation's the spur now that's shredding my clothes;
We plunge through a gauntlet of flailing green limbs,
The forest so dense the dawning light dims.

The wind's singing by me and hat hits the string
I'm being slapped silly but don't feel the sting;
I'm high in the saddle and drunk with the speed,
At one in a union of tree, man, and steed.

It's dancing, this weaving that seeks to avoid
The lashes and lances of trees we've annoyed;
It's graceful and rhythmic as any Strauss Waltz,
And so far, we've danced it without any faults.

They're slowing, we've turned them, we all settle down
The madness is passing, I feel myself frown;
At chances we took with what's left of my hide,
But Heart, Lord, insists we thank YOU for that ride!