This Hobbled Existence

Damian and Lukey

Every now and then
I look up and out
from this hobbled existence
through a window of miracles
and glimpse
a heron gliding by
like a grim and skinny matron
clutching her pocketbook
under a stiff wing,
or a shimmery rainbow,
gossamer valentine from the deity,
or the silent promise of daybreak
every day brand new upon the planet
or a patch of blue amidst gray storm clouds
or the stalwart enduring heartbeat
of a thousand year old cedar,
eagle peering down
from its topmost scrag

Every now and then a brand new miracle occurs:
a baby catching its first breath
utters its protesting cry
at leaving its gloried heaven
to endure this planet's pain
Each time we celebrate with joy
a new soul's journey
is beginning
once again

Every now and then I look up
beyond the burden and the blessings
at the vast and constant sky
and remember
what I'm doing here
and why

one from the archives, kids. Still Hobbling, after all these years :-)

Wild Horse, Wild Ride

Kids, I just watched this heartwarming documentary, which follows a herd of wild mustangs, gathered up by the government and given to 100 people across the USA. The people, some experienced trainers, some not,  are given 100 days to bring these wild horses, never touched by human hands, to  being trained, ridable horses, ready for adoption at public auction at the end of this time, after a breathtaking competition to discover the championship team of horse and rider for that year.

It goes far beyond simple training though, and it is interesting to see the different approaches the trainers took, with a corresponding degree of success. The unskilled had more difficulty, as expected, but persevered and worked through with some varying degrees of success. But all of the horses were adopted, or, in a few cases, went home with their trainers.

The skilled and experienced trainers knew the first issue was gaining the horse's trust - after that, the horses did whatever they were asked to do. One horse and rider were so trustfully bonded, the horse went through its amazing paces blindfolded. Sadly, that young man could not afford to buy and keep his horse, as he so longed to do, and he was in tears for the final minutes of the film. I badly wanted someone to buy the horse for him, but as this is a documentary and not a Hollywood film, it didnt happen. It was heartbreaking. 

This got my sister and I very excited. She is keeping an eye out for another horse, as Beau is aging, and rescues with this degree of training are a phenomenal opportunity. Plus mustangs seem to be highly intelligent, hardy and "cow-y". Lori intends her next horse will do cattle sorting and barrel racing, and mustangs seem highly suited to these events.

We came across another wild mustang story after watching this film.  Ben Masters of San Angelo, Texas, along with three friends, is trying to raise money to make a documentary of a proposed six-month 3000 mile trip, on horseback, through some of the most spectacular scenery in the USA: Arizona, Utah, Idaho, Wyoming and Montana, including Yellowstone and the Grand Canyon.

"This is a story of the partnership between horse and rider, a testament to the hardiness of mustangs, and a tribute to the early explorers whose spirit remains today," it says on the Unbranded website. In the trailer, Ben says, "We're helping each other, us and these wild horses. We're helping them get out of their captivity. And they're helping us escape from ours."

Through their journey and the resulting film, they hope to inspire and encourage wild mustang adoptions.

There once were two million wild mustangs in the USA.  There are currently 36,000 mustangs living in the wild. Plus there are a further 43,000 living in captivity, in holding facilities, waiting to be adopted.              

If you watch this film trailer, your heart will be stirred by the intention and purpose of the proposed trip, by the young men whose passion this is, by the beauty and wildness that still exists across our landscape, and by the beauty and willingness of the horses.

Hopefully, you will want for these beautiful creatures the good loving homes they deserve, where they will be fed and cared for, and loved, and ridden beyond all our fences. If you wish to contact Ben, or to donate to this cause, go to the Unbranded website. On the right there is a Contact Me spot for you to send a message to Ben on Facebook.

I have mixed feelings about the terrifying gathering up of these horses by the government. The horses, accustomed to freedom and wildness, respond with terror to being gathered into pens. But it was wonderful to see the ones gifted with intuitive trainers, who gained their trust before starting the training. These horses are so intelligent, so willing, so spirited. It was less gratifying to see the "trainers" who lacked experience or wisdom, who taught through domination. But the horses, though more nervous with this approach, performed very well, given one hundred days before, they had had no contact with man (a status I now consider to be Nirvana).

Here is the trailer - feast your eyes on the beauty. Perhaps your heart will cry a little, as does mine, for the fate of the mustangs, such beautiful and spirited horses, as the government removes them from the wild and herds them into pens. May each one find someone who will love and value them. May one of them find their way to us, across the miles. We are ready.

Penny Joy

Penny Joy is spending a few days at Grandma's

while her mom is in the city.

She  has scoped out the comfiest spots,

and especially loves snuggling under the wolf fur throw.

This sweater is too tight, Grandma. 

I think I need a new jacket!

It's cold out there!

Windows

stunning image by cybartex at graphicriver.net

"Year after year," I told him,

"I walked mile after mile,

hour after hour,

looking in

every window,

dreaming of the lives within.

In one lit window,

in late evening,"

I remembered,

"a woman looked up

from her book, smiling,

as a man handed her

a cup of tea.

"So many years spent,

walking and looking,

in search of Love,

in search of Home.

Always outside,

looking in."

"And now

you're inside,

looking out,"

he told me, sadly.

And it was true.

Posted for Mary's Mixed Bag at Real Toads

The Bag Lady Who Haunts My Dreams

corbisimages.com

She was sitting on the pavement
on a small square of blanket
at the corner of Granville and Georgia.
Ringing her little bell,
she chanted ceaselessly,
"anysparechangeanysparechangeanysparechange?"
She was at least eighty years old,
and it was January cold.

I came to a full. stop.
Fumbling in my bag,
I pulled out a twenty.
It was not nearly enough
to solve this situation,
but it was what I could do,
right now.

As I bent to hand it to her,
her eyes lit up
in disbelief, in joy.
Twenty dollars would buy
something warm to drink,
something to eat,
maybe a treat.
Unexpected wealth
in a life of
bare day-to-day
survival.

"Oh, thank you, my dear!"
her small hand, like a claw,
holding my wrist.
She tried to give me her watch.
Gently, I declined.

I looked into her eyes
and felt fear.
Was I looking at
my own future?
I am always only
a few hundred dollars
away
from the streets.
But I have people
who would not
abandon me.

What was she doing
in her eighties
sitting on the cold
winter pavement,
watching all the legs
passing by?

Why was she not in
a warm facility,
being brought cups of tea
and muffins?
Where was the System,
that left her sitting here?

And where were her people?
Once she was beloved,
with a husband and a home,
with things she dusted,
with tables and chairs,
and warm beds.

What could I do,
to get her some help,
in town for only
this one day?
I had to keep walking,

part of the system
that left her sitting there,
on that cold pavement,
turning away,
moving past
the discomfort,
one more
set of legs
moving on.

Guilt.
Helplessness.
Frustration.
Compassion in inaction,
in a world so unbalanced,
no way to set it right.

As I walked away,
I could hear her,
still ringing her little bell:
"anysparechangeanysparechangeanysparechange?"

I still see her face,
hear her little bell,
her voice ~ 

every winter,

they haunt
my dreams.

Ella's prompt at Poets United's Wonder Wednesday is Kindness, acts of kindness towards us, or those we have performed ourselves. This is more a cry of frustration than an incident of kindness, as there was so little I could do. A dozen years later, I can still see her, remember her small claw-like hand grasping my wrist, as she tried to give me a watch in return for my twenty. 

She was still sitting there a few months later. And then, no more.

In the Candle's Flame

google candle

When I read Candles by Mary Kling, over at In the Corner of My Eye, a glimmering of a poem rose up in response. I offer it here.

Friend,
my hope is
that the beauty
of the candles
will warm
Memory

and the lighting
of the candles
will rekindle
Hope.

I light this candle
with love.
In its glow, 
may you find
some comfort 
here.

***   ***   ***   ***

The prompt at Poetry Jam is Candles. I love candles and always have a lot of them around. I love their flickering light in the evening, their scent, love burning them for peace, or in memory of my beloved Pup.

In childhood, the mystique  of incense and candles, flickering in red votive glass, as the Latin words echoed in the nearly empty church, in the darkness of an early winter morning, steeped my world in divine mystery.

As a young woman, a candle lit beside the bed invited loving passion and tipped me over the threshold from innocence to the sweetest knowing.

At the beach, fat white candles sat ready, for the many times the power went out, spilling their light onto the page as I read, while the west wind howled
outside.

After my wolf-Pup died, a lit candle was for remembering, and sputtered
with my tears.

Candles are for Peace, for honoring the dead, for Remembering, for Beauty, and for Truth. 

In the heart of the candle's flame, look to find your fondest dreams of Tomorrow.

Loving the World

Our lonely neighbor, Kasha

Did you once dream a dream
of sharing your life
with someone who never
arrived?


Do you sometimes feel 
lonely,
always the person who 
arrives and leaves
every gathering
alone?


Have you learned
love comes in
many different forms,
and is always 
all around you?

Get ready
to love
the whole world,
kids.
There is a planet full
of lonely old ones,
neglected children,
and homeless animals
just waiting for
your love.

Find yourself one,
or two, or three,
and shine the warmth 
of your limitless heart
on their 
bottomless need.