We are but pilgrims in the land of Equus.
Unkown, unfamiliar travelers who seek to find the answers.
What are we but mutual, created beings upon this earth?
In the land of Equus we all have ears to hear but do we listen?
In the land of Equus we all have eyes to see but do we really see?
In the land of Equus the honey runs sweet and pure.
Do we taste it?
In the land of Equus there is no tomorrow and yesterday is but a dream.
Where are we?
In the land of Equus love continually abounds.
Do we feel it?
In the land of Equus the air is soft.
Can we touch it?
In the land of Equus the ego belongs to no one.
Who are we?
In the land of Equus we are but pilgrims.
Tread softly and just be.
