A foal is born, awash in dampness
Kissed by the miracle of life
Rises up shakily; unknowing, unsure
One step, then two, moving forward
Stumbling back
Toward nothingness
And then, suddenly, sees the light
Ahead and knows, instinctively knows
That there, right there
Is freedom, wholeness, healing—
And getting there might be slow
But get there she will
With baby steps
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