The Spirits Of The Wild

It came from the water, a white stallion. Born of the surf it moved as nothing I had seen before. And it was beautiful. Its long legs thundering on the sand as it rode towards me.
As it drew near I fell to my knees, knowing I was unworthy to stand level with such a creature. The call of an eagle sounded high above, and a terrible roar from behind revealed a lion striding from the brush.
All three encircle me, and as I knelt there, at the edge of the world, surrounded by the masters of land, sea and air, a tear falls down my cheek. For I was in heaven and they were all dead.