What is this wish I pine for
As I watch the western sky,
Envying the stars their joyous trek,
As they merrily pass me by?
I sense the strength of horses,
The wind blowing warm through my hair;
I see in my mind the endless stretch
Of a prairie and mesas most fair.
My heart, it cries for its freedom,
And desires to turn the clock back,
Fulfilling its need from what spirit leads me
To follow in moccasined tracks.