Wild Horses, couldn’t drag me away, from Loving you… frolicking in the snow and letting go to be with your own. The Flow in you, feels in us too, as hearts sync in the strides and gates of trotting, cantor, and explore…reins, barns, and confines allow empathy in to sense the wonder, loosened of all restraints, and never looking back, studs become stallions and mares keep the peace, nurturing and teaching the entire herd, and all who care.
Deeper, kinder, gentler, to watching and sensing and seeing the Flow, and in that, we all become, when we’re in the same place…in the moment of wondering, exploring, playing as children when curfew is for kids…rules and containers, propaganda named news, wars, and rumors of wars, all lost and not worth their weights fighting for on subconscious observances, routinely darkened and corrupted… All dissolve when observing horses, flowing, loosened, from being told or directed, just acting naturally…as an opening flower, the sight sensed by Spark, shared between and within all resonating, to stop and join the beat, sensed, watching nature play out…
Beyond physical evidence, the proof is in the heart of a matter. Only felt, sensed, seen, touched, and desiring more to keep flowing… at this moment, and in this one, the Spark inside remains the same, when allowed out to sing out from within. Sparks fly, wondering in higher realms, consciousness changes when jailed to suffer consequences, conditions, and unfairs… Cept when let out, to be yourSelf, and wonder why we keep returning to the farm, to be caged, raped and pillaged mentally again, rather than remain…Wild Horses, Forever gallantly prancing in a flow of our own, rather than congested and mutated by governing parties outside, beneath our upper development… in cages of their own, most unknowingly.
May the wild or natural be contained, as whip marks evidence themselves everywhere when whipped into civil obedience, socially climbing and conversing, broken wills now paid by their own expense, in debtors’ prisons of another archons’ making, out in the open, and borrowed upon, with interest. While Sparks recall Wild Horses, freed from captivity, of any controls to be themSelves just playing around, freed of a Being, being a gelding, and coming into their owned awareness of whom they really are…and how the wild may provide a wink of understanding that fits the heart within vessels that ponder upon deeper matters.
As we watch a Herd of Horses,
From a glance to a stare, to a Feeling, into a Connection.
Fillies and Colts, never growing old playing around their wonderment.
Hearts and Minds within One, when looking on, at them.
Grow to One within All, when observing what’s flowing,
In a moment when moments count but time checks out of awareness.
In moments when none exist, as only here and now are real for now,
To hearts that still feel, when filled by mere sights, of Wild Horses, in snow-covered meadows, no longer pretending, from bridled passions of barn-sour demeanors, to a love that comes from the releasing of chains, coming into their own, when finally let go, and unleashed of their masters…
A Mass of Vessels,
Feelings when and if Connected,
Disconnected, Roped and Herded again…
Ropes and threads into their heads, tied-up in knots, never leaving prisons and cells for long, but for spells.
Domesticated Spirits, haltered from bridled passions,
Of heavenly abodes that don’t contain, but states that exist above and within bliss, that spread the love to those who fall into mans kind… and raise awareness with simple views, of Wild Horses, in nature and you, connecting our instinctual awe of another loving being, in love with the awe that connects, the untamable Spark, that never goes out, within the presence of All finding connection in simple awareness, of what connects us. Let each dawn start from there, and start over again when caged or rounded up from thinking and playing in greener pastures that don’t require boots to walk through… but along bubbling brooks, and sun-kissed rays, that welcomes our flow, and begs we stay.