Entry: 25 September, 2013
Two Horses
TWO HORSES graze companionably, one ahead a short distance from the other. They stand apart, but never far away. If you stand for a while and watch them, you will see the one in front positioning his body as a shield, glancing often to be sure the one behind is safely there.
He is needed.
If you stand a little longer and watch them move slowly over the grass, you will see the one behind occasionally walk up close, gently touch her nose to flank of the first, dispelling his anxiousness.
She is needed.
Heads remain bent close to earth, attentive to their separate tasks, ears flick occasionally, tails switch softly. Independent lives, yet they never lose contact one with the other. Thus such touches, or a scent of the air given one to the other in the age-old way of knowing presence, these silent communiqués between them keep them close throughout the days and nights, for they can only survive together.
One is a melody, one is a harmony, both needed to complete the symphony of whispers upon the wind.
One a touchstone for the other, the other wisdom for the one, theirs is a symbiotic connection of spirit across the great divide, saying more in silence than all the words ever spoken.
This is that higher love that only few are privileded to find and know and keep.
This is connection of the heart.
Two Horses
TWO HORSES graze companionably, one ahead a short distance from the other. They stand apart, but never far away. If you stand for a while and watch them, you will see the one in front positioning his body as a shield, glancing often to be sure the one behind is safely there.
He is needed.
If you stand a little longer and watch them move slowly over the grass, you will see the one behind occasionally walk up close, gently touch her nose to flank of the first, dispelling his anxiousness.
She is needed.
Heads remain bent close to earth, attentive to their separate tasks, ears flick occasionally, tails switch softly. Independent lives, yet they never lose contact one with the other. Thus such touches, or a scent of the air given one to the other in the age-old way of knowing presence, these silent communiqués between them keep them close throughout the days and nights, for they can only survive together.
One is a melody, one is a harmony, both needed to complete the symphony of whispers upon the wind.
One a touchstone for the other, the other wisdom for the one, theirs is a symbiotic connection of spirit across the great divide, saying more in silence than all the words ever spoken.
This is that higher love that only few are privileded to find and know and keep.
This is connection of the heart.
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