Dreaming

Wild Horses


They’re mighty giants of whitened iron

piercing the quiescent night

with glowing eyes and hearts of fire

wild so they run.

With muscle tensed as coiling springs

desperate to unwind

pulling pounding souls outstretched

wild so they run.

With beating hooves as a thousand drums

razing the dampened sand

as leaping foam of ocean plum

wild so they run.

With manes and tails as boiling clouds

whipping in their wake

of nostrils flared and snorted glares

wild so they run.

They’re warring lords of tempest storms

racing ‘cross the land

charging streaks of thunder breaks

wild so they run.


Have you given the horse strength? Have you clothed his neck with thunder? Can you frighten him like a locust? His majestic snorting strikes terror. He paws in the valley, and rejoices in his strength; He gallops into the clash of arms. He mocks at fear, and is not frightened; Nor does he turn back from the sword. The quiver rattles against him, The glittering spear and javelin. He devours the distance with fierceness and rage; Nor does he come to a halt because the trumpet has sounded. At the blast of the trumpet he says, ‘Aha!’ He smells the battle from afar, The thunder of captains and shouting.   Job 39:19-25 (NKJV)

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