wild mustang mare grey wild

Grey Wild

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She silently and gracefully, steps away from her fear
for just a moment.
Her memories clouded with the dark gray storm
of the end to her past.
Swept away
as a small tree branch snapped from its mother
by the rushing waters of the flash flood.
She doesn’t trust.
Oddly, she wants to.
She remembers a similar object,
one of coercement and control.
She silently and gracefully steps away from her fear
for just a moment.
His hand outstretched
with an offering of peace.
She cautiously but gently observes.
The hairlike organs sense it’s okay.
She silently and gracefully steps away from her fear
for just a moment.
She places her head low and nose in.
The strap over her head.
Confused.
It doesn’t felt like the times before.
As if time does not exist,
he buckles the halter.
“Communication not control,” he says.
A golden ray of light.
Fear suddenly bolts in.
Maybe a sound,
maybe a sight…
Something beyond the realm
and understanding of human might.
Panic!
The rope is like a vicious snake
waiting for the perfect strike.
Run!
But little area to go.
Both hearts turn to a warrior’s drum.
She’s unable to step away from her fear
for just a moment.
He understands.
It’s not about respect or disrespect.
Focus shifts to the calm.
In the precious present moment,
the ground moves gently—
rocking the energy
as a mother would console her infant child.
The two hearts converge and synchronize
in resonance.
He waits.
Time seems to stand still.
A minute, feels like a century.
Nature acknowledges the coherence
and translates a state of calm.
Her hairlike organs sense it’s okay.
She eats and takes a deep breath.
A sigh of relief.
For this great storm has passed
without so much as a sprinkle.
She knows, she will not be forced
to let go of her
inner wild.

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