I am tame, sir.

For the most part, I am.
You won’t see me fight. You won’t see me buck or roar.
When attacked, I roll over immediately. I will apologize as a reflex – not because I did anything wrong.
I am led fairly easily.
If you say, “Come with me,” I am likely to go.
But I have a wildness that isn’t loud or violent.
I am very hard to bridle or saddle. I will slip away, shrug you loose. You might be able to get something over me but I will find a way to unclasp it, to shake it off.
I am wild like a wildflower – delicate and strong at the same moment. And while I’d like to have the wild ferocity of a lion, my wildness is quieter, more still, more cunning. I won’t be ridden or captured. I will bend in the breeze on a hillside.


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