Powerful Grace

My heart beats thunder claps,
the clomping of hooves
in glory-gallop.

My soul is wild mare.
My mane is blackest hair.
My ears are sharp.
My nostrils flare.

I am powerful grace,
shunner of ribbons and
tearer of lace.

I pray to let the Master
tame and teach and
break me,
the self that finds
her heart unfree.

Wild mare, flying mane,
hiding all the fear and pain.
I need the Master’s
reigns on me.

My heart beats thunder.
My soul strikes-pounds.
In the hold of the harness,
my fullness is found.

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