Wild Mustang

A grazing stallion.
A breeze comes sweeping down from the mountain,
Wading through the grass.
“Be free! Beyond there are grasses and brooks.
Be free!
Let your hooves pound in the open meadows and let your shadow mingle with that of the tree,
Beyond there is freedom. Be free…”
It whispers over and over in his ears.
A sweet and wistful voice
How can he delay his choice?
Now the lady had laid it before him.
Now must he decide.
He raises his head and neighs
A question to the air, “Is it true?” The air plays about his nostrils,
Bringing smells of the lands beyond.
Then the wind comes and weaves in and out of his mane
And tail, shouting “Adventure, freedom,
Roaming wild awaits you!”
Suddenly inside the horse, the mighty stallion, a glow
A glow anew of an ember, the ember of freedom.
A flame now bursts in his heart and the noble stallion
Kicks up his heels and flies,
No pasture gates, no stable doors
Can stop a stallion as mighty as he.
He now is free.
Wild calls blast about his ears,
Wind flowing in his nostrils
Heart pounding in his chest
He stops to give a blast.
A blast from deep within his being,
A blast of triumph, a blast of calling.
Like an echo, neighs answer his. Mares kick their carts
And plows and stable doors.
And away they follow him to the mountain streams,
The meadow grass.
The cool shadows of the trees,
They are Free!

Never truly dies the wild nature of a true mustang,
A true colt or filly of the plains.
Their ember never dies forever, it waits for it to burst,
Into a storm.
A flame.
Sometimes that time never came,
But sometimes it becomes a bonfire.

I’m not the happiest with it and it certainly is not my best but it works.