Tag Archives: horses

Day Mares and Sebastian

Unconscious enslavement is enslavement doubled. Robert Grudin

The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.” Eleanor Roosevelt

“As you awaken, may your dreams greet you by name and may you answer – ‘yes’
” Mary Anne Radmacher

Wishes can be horses! Look they call  us… their names are Sebastian, Lucy, Frida and Gretel. Gretel?  Yes, Sebastian and Doll did some dreaming of their own:-).  She’ll be here very soon to gallop freely into your waking life, like the others.

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Horse Deity

Narcissus

“When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world”  John Muir

The dark horse is stabled in the child …. that ride up the hill of Heaven …. William Gass

And so you may have chanced on the story of the youth who, looking into a pool, fell in love with his own image and was transformed into a flower, Narcissus.

But the metamorphosis doesn’t stop there: we have become whatever we look at and vice versa and one of the most transcending examples is the horse and related myth of the centaur, half horse, half man – not even half the story, for we become the horse and the horse becomes man.

Photographed by John W. Hay

For instance, we even learn to talk the language of the horse, ‘Horse,’ understanding that the horse perceives us as a horse, too, and has come to imitate our movements, arms becoming legs that then correspond to the horse’s four.

Moreover, horse is no donkey, but, nevertheless,  wonders what on Earth happened to our ears, flattened back  reflecting our permanent discontent. And yet  he is quick enough to notice that fingers have been added to our front hooves that signal movement and interest in much the same way ears should. He accepts Nature.   Man becomes one with the herd.

So know this: when, by chance, you meet a horse, he may have come for you as your soul mate to accompany you, heaven-wards…  and, though, the way be hard and you might come to forget this, look into the pool again and you will see, remember and understand.

"Don't cry for the horses
That life has set free
A million white horses
Forever to be

Don't cry for the horses
Now in God's hands
As they dance and they prance
To a heavenly band

They were ours as a gift
But never to keep
As they close their eyes
Forever to sleep

Their spirits unbound
On silver wings they fly
A million white horses
Against the blue sky

Look up into heaven
You'll see them above
The horses we lost
The horses we loved

Manes and tails flowing
They Gallop through time
They were never yours
They were never mine

Don't cry for the horses
They will be back someday
When our time has come
They will show us the way

On silver wings they will lift us
To the warmth of the sun
When our life is over
And eternity has begun." ( Author unknown)


Boxer, his name was ‘Boxer’!

Horses make a landscape look beautiful.

Alice Walker

John Elsley – Shire Horses

Get off your high horse,” my father quipped at me one day when I was a little boy.
Until this day, I had never really realized that I have always been riding a high horse.  I have now lived three times as long as most horses, but I know I am riding the same horse. You see, in the past month I have dreamed about horses no less than nine times. For some people, this might even be considered a night mare – pun intended.  The dreams produced the following conceptions:

The Return of the Son King, The Presence of the White Unicorn, The Invisible Green Horse, Horse in a Pickle, Horses Pulling Their Weight, Alive and Kicking, Horse in Shawl, Time out with the horses calling in the Future

So the question you are asking, as I was, is: Where is all this coming from and where does it lead? I remember now, my friend, Roger Hawksbury’s father had saved a great white shire. The horse had worked all its life and he believed that it should be put out to rest, put out to pasture to spend it remaining days in peace – and not to be exchanged for money and sent to the knacker’s yard to be turned into dogmeat, which was custom even in England where they are supposed to love horses.  He was a good man and that horse deserved the best even when it was too old to work and worn out. But I only knew this part of the story later.
Roger and I were just a couple of young school kids and loved to be out to play, as it was called then.  I had climbed over the wall with broken glass embedded in the top to join him and jumped down into the mental asylum, for the farm was now being used to keep the patients occupied. But we weren’t interested in them, particularly. First we visited the orchard and then made our way towards the lake, Duchess’s lake. It was our adventure because we had to keep out of sight of the warden with his stick – Roger had told me that he had laughed so hard when one day a big dog had run up to the warden and run off with his stick – There were carp in the lake – some say,  as old as a hundred years – they were later caught and transferred to Bristol Zoo, I heard, when the lake was drained for the motorway to come through.
And sooner or later, we would tire and just sprawl in the grass and from the edge of the lake look up the hill at the Palace, already a hospital. And there to one side was a tall stone pillar, a memorial to the Indian Prince’s steed.  And there grazing below the Palace was the magnificent white shire that captured my heart for ever. What I remember was the impression of white on green, for his white countenance shone at you and I swear that the grass radiated greener and greener. I was hypnotized. I remain hypnotized.
Boxer, His name was ‘Boxer’!
….

Well, I never did meet the white shire again but have chanced on five horses, which if we put them all together recreate his presence.  And guess how you might sum up my life today, Yes, ‘ Time out with the horses, calling in the future, for, here, our horses literally create the landscape!

Horses enjoying life