Poem Excerpt from Crossroads of Seasons

Wild Horses In The Rain

Looking back at the sun through your rear view mirror, the past that once locked you in a corner, released by the present pain of loneliness, never shining the face of life your way. Always having a place, but never calling one your own. Leaving the structured trail of dread and frustration for a life of peaceful hungry streets. Doing only what you alone could do. Never losing what you have hoped for, always finding what was promised, yearning for the day, the touch of the Lord will bring you home. The trail is lit by the flame in your eye, making friends along the way. Never wondering what is ahead through the front windshield, even though once forsaken, we know who to call our own. The trail has been washed away, but the promise still remains. A land of freedom and hope, standing on hind legs, saluting the sky, as wild horses in the rain.