Music by Brent Lewis
Written by Perry Crawford
Wagon wheels pressed heavy as the desert sand was breached.
The young mule stood exhausted on a hill where bones lay bleached.
Mountains in the distance seemed to flee from her advance,
Mocking her progression through her woeful happenstance.
Fastened to a wagon by both yoke and harness tack,
Sweat and blood co-mingled in the hair upon her back.
Water, long expended, seemed like a memory, like a dream,
A desire mocked by dry lakes, and the ruts from ancient streams.
Pressing on seemed futile, and a foolish thing to try,
She thought her life was over, that the time had come to die.
Burning without mercy, sun had made a shadeless hell,
A punishment for straying from the life she knew so well.
Thoughts turned to her master once the owner of the cart,
As blood as thick as syrup, put a strain upon her heart.
The man's abusive treatment, meted out upon the beast,
Afforded her no empathy or mercy in the least.
Visions of new freedoms brought her to this distant place,
And made it worth enduring all the hardships she must face.
Her mind's eye pictured clearly what the future had in store,
And gave her strength and vigor to resume the task she bore.
She strained a little further to the apex of the rise,
Where just beyond the crest line there awaited a surprise,
Covering the valley, spread for several miles around,
Yucca trees and cactus plants were covering the ground.
The weary beast took succor from the water that they bore,
Having found the valley she had long been looking for.
The desert tested patience and the gains were slow and few,
But escaping her abuser was the bravest thing to do.
Animals give freely and mankind is in their debt,
As they serve as beasts of burden, or for food, or as a pet.
They deserve our better natures in this world of give and get,
As man attends to creatures his own life gets better yet.