Across a wide and grassy plain,
His hoof beats thunder, like falling rain.
A coat as white as December snow,
Against the sun, it casts a fiery glow.
He roams alone and yet so free,
This is how Life was meant to be.
In the distance,where earth and sky meet,
Past canyons, meadows and fields of wheat.
With nostrils flaring and fire in his chest,
He pushes onward, continually without rest.
Above and beyond the sapphire sky,
Where freedom soars, where eagles fly
He hears a loud and piercing cry.
This race, he has not won, but still must try.
A lone observer in flight, watches his every move
Eyeing each nook,cranny,corner and groove.
Above and below, in Freedom's embrace
The twain continue their perpetual race.
