Issue link: http://kathy-ralph.uberflip.com/i/497737
My farm is truly blessed © Kathy Ralph 2011 Where Do Wild Horses Go? I sat upon the hilltop and watched the land below, And soon, I had to ponder, where do, wild horses go? Their hoof beats simply echo across a barren land, But, sight and sound are long gone, lost quickly in the sand. Their bodies only pass through, the place we call the plains, The beauty only fleeting; in the wind, just likes their manes. I wish that I could touch them, and talk with them, one time, And ask them quite so simply what goes on, within their minds. Do they have a secret place where man can never go? Or do they gather at rippling lakes, and drink the wine so slow? Do they laugh at daily pains, and talk amongst themselves, Of river crossings, oh so wild, and others not so swell. Do they often wonder, where their next meal's coming from, Or do they simply eat what's there and boldly carry on? Do they love, and do they hate, where do their dreams lie? Is it in the hands, of God, or a heaven in the sky? Are their minds so trapped with guilt that they are never free, Or are their minds so free from doubt, hurdles, they don't see. And when they meet a human, whose hands are rough and cold, Do they ever wonder, to whom, they will be sold? And when they finally face a man, so weak and full with doubt, Do they give so freely just to show, he can, get out. Out of all the prison chains that bind him as a man, And show him all the wondrous things within a horse's land. Do they know what we do not, that you are just a slave? Only if you let it be, and glory, you do crave. Because I'll never speak to one, so free upon the plains, I'll just sit still, upon my hill, and hope they come again. For in their carefree passing, they've shown me so much, To let life be, and just believe, my life they've surely touched. Lulu loves a roll in the dust too