Skittish Wild Horses
Like skittish wild horses let’s run freely with the rinsing wind in our hair,
As we crave the healing balm of love but cautious of paying the price of trust.
We feel the magnetic pull of a spiritual connection which will not be severed.
Armoured in cold metal we eye each other warily with furrowed brow, ready to run,
Carrying life’s hidden or obvious battle scars to the safety of the hills,
No longer able to discern friend from foe, we fear cruel servitude.
Will you throw me angrily for others mistakes from your back and trample me into dust?
And bruised from having been thrown to harsh ground,
Will I hold your reins tightly and dig cruel spurs into your side in spite?
But if we will not walk the dewy meadow for fear of broken bottles in the grass,
How will we experience the feel of silken moisture bathing our tired feet?
Let us run together, no judgements, no demands only being all that we can be.
There is enviable beauty in our free spirited wildness that others can’t understand.
For us no breaking in, no saddles or bridles just you tame you and I’ll tame me,
While we ride the wild winds of life and dance around the broken bottles.