Through the Silence

When I watch them peacefully grazing, reaching for a treat, or kicking up their
heels so gleefully. . .
I wonder about their stories.
Who once loved them, if anyone?
What were their names, if they were given one?
What happened?

Sometimes , when it is peaceful and still . . .
Answers will come.
Like the proverbial whisper on the wind. . .
Through the silence,
You will hear.
‘This is me, and this is a piece of my past’.
‘What will you do with this knowledge?’
A stallion who pins his ears and charges forth to protect himself, his ‘herd’. . .
‘Watch my movements and my reactions and you will see why I am this way, why I do this’.
A foal that cowers away from human touch will tell you with his body what it is he is afraid of.
The mare that defends her space will show you with her eyes the reason .
The gelding terrified of the saddle and bridle that shakes and darts backwards will reveal to you ‘why’.
The painfully thin horse shows his bones, his clear lack of care on the outside. This is heart wrenching to see, but you clearly see the reason and the cause of it. . .
Most wounds are on the inside, in the soul, the mind.
For you see, though these horses were perhaps once wanted….
Became unwanted.
I want them.
These wounds, these scars, these pasts….are part of who they are. Part of what makes each of these magnificent horses unique.
Time is a balm that soothes . . .
And this takes time .
To heal. Mend. Restore.
People tell me I ‘can not save them all’. . .
Perhaps not, but you know what?
I’ll damn sure try.

Randi L. Collier
March 6 2019




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