Sunday Photo Fiction: Horse Kisses


It was taking my mixed junior high class two-hours to arrive at the Ranch for the Deaf. There was several different activities to do there that could be done by those deaf or not. The Pastor who greeted us signed his words as he spoke to us and shared a devotion.

We ate hot dogs and roasted them on metal sticks over a fire pit. My teacher took our junior high class on a walk through the wilderness. I wasn’t to happy about this. If you know me, you know I am mostly an indoors girl due to allergies to fungi, grass, trees, other molds, and pollen. I swallowed my Bendryl with regret as I knew how tired it would make me later on.

We made walking sticks out of smaller trees, peeling the bark off them and rowed a boat in a body of water on the ranch. We learned how to shoot riffles. I remember the bruises I had on my shoulder from the kick-back of the guns.

Lastly, there were the horses who followed us behind wire and wood fences as we walked. I stopped for a moment and laid my hand on the nose of pretty brown chestnut horse. She sniffed me then laid her head on my shoulder as I stroked her snout and scratched behind her ears.

She was beautiful and breathtaking. She followed me as we continued to walk. When I came close to her she hid her nose in my hair and gave a few wet kisses to my neck. I didn’t and still don’t know a lot about horses. But as I found with certain dogs, I realized horses know something about people. They are drawn to certain people for whatever reason they are. They see in people for their souls and they adore you without requiring anything but a nice scratch and perhaps a carrot. Their’s  is a love that gives without regret.


Thanks to  Alistair Forbes for hosting!

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

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Poem: Grounded


 

Train Tracks
All these thoughts unraveling inside. I don’t know how to make sense of them all. To find peace within a meaning or a person.

It goes to show, where you can go if you let your mind run away. No, epiphanies tonight. I’ll just sort through everything that is making my head spin.

I’ll tell you when I’ve unwrapped these tiny pendant chains that always knot.These strings here, there all crossed.

The tiniest strands of gold, are the ones that are most difficult to unravel. They are wound about each other in the most intricate of ways.

I don’t know much of anything I believe. When I can’t sort out my life. Plan things the way I need them to be planned. I do my best but it’s not enough.

And I get myself into situations. I know I’m headed for a train on the tracks. But I couldn’t stop myself from walking on the train tracks. It’s the feel of the wind beneath you in ignorance, before you smash.

And collisions are solid, damaging, and hurtful. I want to make the right decisions,  but I’m drawn towards the wrong ones. I want to let everything be, but I’m at loss for certainty.

How can you make the right choices, when you want songs of experience; instead of songs of innocence. There is something wonderful about the light, refreshing and tranquil.

But the blackness hides in a corner waving gold chains that entice you with their gilding and glimmering. The wrong thoughts call to you and set themselves in your mind. They make their desires known.

I’m only the age I am and the experience I have. I look to others, but still I do not know. They say experience is the worst teacher. But where have I to go?

So, that train keeps on coming and I am blinded by the lights and the moment before misery when I think I’ll be okay. But everyone knows train wrecks kill, and flying is for fools who didn’t think to wait at the train crossing.

Crash, bang! If you don’t make up your mind you’ll get hit from the otherside. Between a rock and a hard place. But for peace, I just want to sleep tonight.

The train is a metaphor for life. You can’t sit on the sidelines. Choices are here to be made. But you have to choose carefully.You can’t step out infront of an oncoming train.

You have to wait for the moment the train pulls up to the station. Buy your ticket and hope that your travels lead you to make choices with grace, and never let your feet step off the ground. Flying is for the dead. The intelligent stay grounded.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.