The Wild Stallion

A wild stallion once was I,
Running the grasslands, spirits high.
And though my life was filled with ease,
A greater one I could not please.

This greater one, a son of man,
Desired to put me on his land.
To break my will, and to break my heart,
And require of me my every part.

So why did I take to such a notion
Of boundless loyalty and devotion?
Had I become witless, or did I merely need change,
For life had grown wearisome on that range?

One brisk autumn morning a rider drew near,
But somehow I knew there was nothing to fear.
Unlike other times when I’d just run away,
I willfully laid down my freedom that day.

There were hard times ahead and stubborn was I
For the ways of the free do not easily die.
But my master was gentle and loving and kind
And when the task was complete there was newness of mind.

I no longer run for my own foolish pleasure.
I’ll reveal you a secret, an invaluable treasure.
A horse of the wild may run freer and faster,
But the horse that’s fulfilled is the horse with a master.



J. Pecoraro