Today's art is from Maria Marriott, who specializes in photographing wild horses. Her gorgeous photos can be seen here. Back in December, my post, strangely human, featured another poem about a horse in a dream called equine dreams. Check it out if you are so inclined, link following. I suppose this one is a companion piece to that. houses vs. horses Either I dream of houses or, to trade a letter, horses. One last night, the nighttime, star-time thrill of snow-buried, bareback riding along a cliff side, mounting with grace, gripping, with ease, her muscular frame, reveling in a daring, a prowess, that the light of morning only slowly dispels. And so distant it was from the houses: shadowy dwellings, bereft of hearth, ice-fogged labyrinths, gloom-flooded halls, unseeing windows, and watery eyes that glare from waylaying faces that besiege the dawn. Mere dreams, I ask— a house, a horse, what choice but the wavering lineaments of faith in mystery. Yet knowing still the girl that spurs my day: on the cliff side, her woolly coat like a sheep’s, keeping me warm, taking me somewhere, letting me stay.
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“…the wavering faith in of lineaments in mystery.” Ah dreams. Lovely poem
Been talking about horses in the wild recently and here’s a poem that captures the beauty of it. Have you ever seen them?