Commonword Blogs

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?