Category Archives: Poetic

Music and horses and art, so intertwined, so deeply embedded into the human genome as to be mutually reflected — a mirror image of sorts. Allowing the horse to mobilize the window to our greater self, to our soul.

Starboy’s Dream

Cosmic Rays

Under twinkling stars above,
Starboy longs for his true love.
Longs to heed the sparkling light’s
Call to flee, in pilgrim’s flight

Loop-the-loops in heart’s love song,
Seeking freedom ‘til the dawn.
Away from limits, borders, bounds
.
Free – outside where love resounds.

When his Stargirl opens the gate,
Worlds of wonder heavenly wait.
Soaring past the Dipper’s spout,

Starboy travels inside, out . . .

Out of space. Out of time.
Into realms of love sublime.
With his Stargirl, soaring high,
Watching comets fizzle by.

Malibu Ferrari

Starboy surfs on cosmic rays.
Leaps, dances, through the maze
Of life and light, love and peace
Past dark shadows love increased.

Til dawn awakens, Starboy soars,
Cosmic-tidal-ocean roars
Fill his heart with love and light,
Happy hoofbeats soaring, bright
.

Travel on, pilgrims strong,
Until the velvet light of dawn
Calls you back to Earth’s embrace,
Filled with wonder, love and grace.

From the Cosmic realms of joy,
Back to Earth for dear Starboy.
Back to dream another night
When he and Stargirl take to flight
,

Into the darkness seeking the light
Fleeing free, in pilgrim’s flight.

~~~~

Starboy’s Dream:  Copyright 2021

Photos:  DawnHoof (Dawn Jenkins)

Video:  A Space Journey  (images from Hubble Space Telescope)

~~~~

maui-sunset-from-moloikai

Please visit my Life Blog Journal of Dawn
for Strategies and Insights into the
Journey of Life

~~~~

Fae by Lacey's spooking rock

Join Dawn for a Soul Horse Ride!  Experience the thrill of becoming one with your Horse . . . Join Dawn and her homegrown herd for a Soul Horse Ride in the
Frazier Park Outback!

Call to book your Life-Changing Adventure today:  (661) 703-6283

~~~~

4 Comments

March 23, 2021 · 9:32 pm

Where Starboy Runs

I found this entry in my journal, dated March 2009, when the economy was failing, falling — much like the Virus and economic uncertainties we experience today.

“Not sure if we can pay our bills, feed our horses, keep our house . . .” I had  written at the uneasy hour of 2:16 am, followed by the poetic lines.

Yet we managed to survive that downturn, even thrive, after it had passed. A reminder that, God willing, we shall emerge from our current woes, as well.

Stay in peace!   DawnHoof

Starboy's mane

Where Starboy Runs

The world shifts and changes,
frightening change —
yet Starboy, stays his course.

The economy flaps, stalls,
nearly collapses —
yet Starboy trots effortlessly.

He lilts along the pine-scented
trail, eagerly moving forward,
floating, steadfast.

Down the open ravine, back up
the other side. Past the waterhole
where bob cats lap.

Grassy spring sprouts fight their
way out of hardened earth,
carpeting the meadow in green.

We turn homeward now,
Starboy’s pace invigorating —
his surging trot, soft as the wind.

Ah that I might live life like
Starboy, gently moving on,
like a dancer, into the second act . . .

Beyond the stock market.
Beyond the mortgage payment.
Where Starboy carries me —

Off the stage, beyond the curtains,
into the forested wonderland
where Starboy runs.

Starboy in bolderfield

Update —

Starboy runs in greener pastures now. Born in my arms in 1990, living thriving and serving his entire 29 years as member of my herd.

Sadly, Starboy passed away November, 2019 — to my stroking, singing, praises, and prayers. The same voice and hands that ushered him into this world, cradled him out . . .

Run, Starboy, run! We’ll ride, again, when I cross over to your side of the rainbow.   DawnHoof

Copyright 2020

Photos:  Dawn Jenkins

~~~~

Higher and Higher

Please also visit my Life Blog, Journal of Dawn ,
for Strategies and Insights into the
Journey of Life

~~~~

Fae on the trail

Join Dawn for a Soul Horse Ride!  Experience the thrill of becoming one with your Horse . . . Join Dawn and her homegrown herd for a Soul Horse Ride in the
Frazier Park Outback!

Call to book your Life-Changing Adventure today:  (661) 703-6283

~~~~

4 Comments

April 7, 2020 · 2:13 pm

Cosmic Canter . . .

Last night I saddled up Aria, and rode off, end of day. Powerful. Smooth. Gracious. Strong! I left this world, and entered the other (Cosmic) one :))

And I awoke with images of this . . .

Carousel Girl

Cosmic girl on Cosmic mare,

Cantering, fast, without a care.

Cosmic Planet, twilight sky.

Canter, fast, before you die.

Carousel Horses

Round the globe you’ll hear her call:

“Maidens join me, one and all!”

Saddle your geldings, stallions, mares,

Canter fast, but beware!

Carousel Horses

Cosmic planet, time is fleet —

Now is not the time to sleep . . .

Cosmic planet, endless sky,

Canter fast, the time is nigh!

Disneyland After Dark

. . . Time to get on with whatever we’ve been put here to do . . . Saddle up! Make the most of our Lives here on sweet Planet Earth. Canter on!

And I realized the birthplace of my amazing Life with my awesome horses began on that Magical Carousel horse, so many years ago!

(Flashbacks to my Disneyland Childhood — And the Carousel Fantasy horses I rode there. My Dad’s music, Dawn’s Disneyland story: You Can Do ANYTHING!, and It’s OK to Scream! ) 

Disneyland Rides!

~~~~

Please visit my Life Blog, Journal of Dawn ,

for Strategies and Insights into the

Journey of Life

Matterhorn After Dark

~~~~

Copyright 2017

 

 

 

 

 

11 Comments

August 9, 2017 · 1:49 pm

Dancing in the Light

This time of year, long evening shadows grace our valley, our woods.

Drawing out the shapes, the colors, the motion of our end-of-day rides.

Long Shadows

Dancing.

Fluttering.

Creating a certain nostalgia.

Projecting glimpses onto ground, grass, bark, leaves . . .

~~~~

Here, a tail wisping — just a glance — against a pinon.

Now, legs lurching — a brief peek — then gone.

Dancing.

Enchanting.

Highlighting our ride. Illuminating the periphery —

Calling my eye, my heart, to ponder.

~~~~

Feelings flood back — barren winter.

Reminding me of how long it’s been since the warm shadows last appeared.

Now, the shape of my horse’s head, ears, mane — glints from another pine tree.

All of it dancing, moving.

Creating the feeling of Spring.

Projecting light-art, the original motion picture — only seen quite like this, when the sun comes round the mountain, this time of year.

Laddie Tree Shadow

~~~~

As we leave the woods, off to the south — a long, golden shaft illuminates greenish-to-rust-toned foliage.

Warm.

Comforting.

As if it will never end.

Like Life. Like our Ride.

As if the green grasses will never wither — never fade.

~~~~

But this — illusory.

Day is done.

Sun setting, westward.

All seasons change.

Like the years. Like the moonlight.

Calling me to take comfort in the Dancing Light of my Ride — today.

~~~~

Aria, Ella and Hokuleia

Aria, Ella and baby, Hokuleia.

Join Dawn for a Soul Horse Ride!  Experience the thrill of becoming one with your horse . . . Join Dawn and her homegrown herd for a  Soul Horse Ride in the Frazier Park Outback!

Call to book your Life-Changing Adventure today:  (661) 703-6283

~~~~

Like what you’ve read here? Visit Dawn’s sister blog: Journal of Dawn

Copyright 2017

2 Comments

May 27, 2017 · 9:33 am

Time Traveler

How many of us have the good fortune, throughout the span of our lives, to re-visit the best of our emotional childhood?

That passionate inner space that stirs your heart to overflowing . . .

Which touchstones open your vault of stored memories?

  • The fluttering silhouette of leaves and light on a curtain?
  • The beach? A hike? Petting a cat, or a dog?
  • The smell and the sounds of the day shifting — from morning . . . to afternoon . . . to evening?

Throughout my life, my access point remains the same: Riding my horse into Nature!

I entered that portal yesterday, and I danced, once again, between worlds.

* * *

Laddie!

All my hopes and dreams for you have come true!

You are my Starboy’s next generation. Starboy, yet bigger, younger. (See My Horse is So Cute! as well as Search: Starboy on this blog for more :))

  • Gliding gaits, smooth. Exuberant.
  • Responsive. Sensible.
  • Every horse-girl’s dream :))

You carried me into dreamland yesterday. And I loved every step . . .

Full. Rich. The emotions stirred deep inside.

Bubbling. Roiling.

Like the ocean waves that serenaded my early childhood years. Growing up on the sand, in Malibu, on then-pristine Trancas beach.

* * *

Maybe it seemed more poignant yesterday because of winter’s intervention.

(This being a snowy, wet and cold one up here in the mountains, I’ve only ridden once since November.)

So absence, indeed, made my heart throb fonder.

As I entered the forest gate, I entered my Time Traveling World.

* * *

All the forest seemed alive, calling back folders of stored emotions. Like a personal file cabinet, from which my entire life opened, and flowed . . .

Lacy shadows cascading across green spring grasses.

I’m riding Rebel, my childhood horse again.

Young. Strong. Filled with hope.

Cool breeze accompanied with warm sunshine, the perfect combination.

Malibu. Elementary School.

Easter time. Wind and warm.

All the world alive, fresh, new.

Yellow blossoms erupting along the Pacific Coast Highway: Clusters of Giant Coreopsis, fields of mustard and Oxalis, bush sunflowers, tidy tips, sticky monkey flowers.

Springtime’s fragrant scent.

Blue sky, fluffy clouds. Hovering, floating.

Teenage again!

Riding Rebel behind Will Rogers State Park in the Pacific Palisades.

Endless sky. Endless opportunities.

My life as endless as the horizon surrounding me . . .

Towering Ponderosa tree, here, just off the trail. Still healthy and full and alive. Handsome Granddaddy of our woods.

Motherhood  now. Two lovely daughters.

My girls would ride into the forest here when they were young, tie up the horses, climb into this tree — sing, and play their flutes.

One day, they reported to me: “Mamma! We watched a calf being born in the woods today. We were up in the tree. The cow was in the bushes, near the wash . . . ”

In my mind, I see that calf being born, each time I ride past. I see it again now, and I see and feel the amazement of new life, once again, in my daughters’ eyes.

Across the way, the spot where my daughter, Anna’s, hair was caught by a snag and pulled from her Shetland pony, Silver.

The pain — how she cried! How hard it was to console her. Pulled from her pony by her hair, by a low-hanging finger of a tree.

Up from the wash, into the meadow now. Yellow carpet of Gold Field flowers, tiny blossoms painting the ground in swirling, creamy hues.

I’m here again, the first time we discovered the meadow in full golden bloom, when Fae was young, green, her maiden voyage that Spring. Anna, teenage now, riding her bareback.

I had my camera that day and I photographed the gangly forms of horse, and rider.

I see it again now: Anna sliding off, picking a tuft of yellow florets, and placing them in both her own hair, and in the forelock and browband of Fae’s bridle. Her long legs hopping, stretching, leaping back on again, in acrobatic precision.

Our cantering spot. Our Toodle Canyon . . .

The pond, dried in the drought of the past several years, now full, heart-shaped, inviting wildlife to sip and horses to spook at their smells.

I’m here again, with my girls — long-since moved away. With my horses — many now, passed to the other side. With my faraway Malibu childhood. Juxtaposed in emotional envelopes, side, by side, by side . . .

Alive again. Decades past.

Time travels. Flashes back.

      Re-living all the feelings. Again.

          Timeless. Alive. All without end . . .

Like an endless loop. Like “The Song That Never Ends”. Playing and re-playing over, and over, again . . .

And all along our ride: The Silent Sentinels (dead trees). Once majestic. Now sliver.  Aged. Wise.

My favorite one, still standing. Broken off at the top. Burned and hollowed below by some long-ago fire. Surrounded by fallen comrades. Twisted, faded.

Enter the longings of Grandmother and Mom, Grandfather and Dad.

Age and wisdom. Hope and loss.

Guideposts of Spirit and values. Philosophy and goodness.

Once here and viable. Now fading. Yet watching, still.

And right along side the bygone, the Old — sprouts the next generation: Fresh. New. Growing.

Encouraging, even in their decay. Our ancestors understand far more than us youngin’s Life’s endless cycles, and wherein we play. In. Out. Endless. Timeless.

All this to the music, the metronome, of my horse’s dancing mane. His flowing neck, swinging. Ticking off each stride.

Each hoofbeat, each memory, each emotion . . . connected through the stride and the dancing mane of my most amazing, time-traveling, doorway to another world: My horse!

* * *

D1000074

* * *

Join Dawn for a Soul Horse Ride!  Experience the thrill of becoming one with your horse . . . Join Dawn and her homegrown herd for a  Soul Horse Ride in the Frazier Park Outback!

Call to book your Life-Changing Adventure today:  (661) 703-6283

* * *

Like what you’ve read here? Visit Dawn’s sister blog: Journal of Dawn

Copyright 2017

15 Comments

May 4, 2017 · 2:32 am

Praising Starboy

Yes, the day is balmy.

Yes, my horse is fresh.

And though we haven’t saddled up since November,

I’m riding Starboy, today, at his best!

* * *

He feels like we’ve never waited

For winter’s snow, mud, ice, to end.

We’ve picked up where we left off,

Starboy, my timeless friend.

* * *

Gliding in perfection,

Flowing with his every silken move —

All, with nuance, dance today

In horse and human groove :))

* * *

How the woodlands beckon,

Starboy’s pace abounds.

Praising precious Starboy,

Hoofbeats, smiles, resound :))

* * *

Awesome, wondrous, synchronized,

How best to describe the day?

Finding bliss on Starboy —

Then feeding his dinner hay :))

* * *

Long Shadow Starboy

Join Dawn for a Soul Horse Ride!  Experience the thrill of becoming one with your horse . . . Join Dawn and her homegrown herd for a  Soul Horse Ride in the Frazier Park Outback!

Call to book your Life-Changing Adventure today:  (661) 703-6283

– – –

Copyright 2017

8 Comments

April 5, 2017 · 9:42 pm

My Horse: My Airplane

It’s Starboy’s 25th birthday this month! Born in Malibu, I remember so well . . . and still he’s healthy, sound — ready to fly like a Piper Warrior, into the woods at endurance speed — and enjoy!

In tribute to Starboy, here’s a jovial piece from my journal, written December, 2012.

Señor Starboy :))

Señor Starboy :))

~~~

My Horse: My Airplane

My horse is an airplane, my airplane, and my soul longs to take up his yoke and soar.

As I roll open the gate and lead him from his barn-hanger, I feel the thrill of knowing that we’ll be in the air, soon.

Like my fellow aviators, I administer my preflight routine: Brush off his hair coat—check. Pick out his hooves—check. Pad, saddle, girth, bridle—check, check, check.

Starboy, Aria, ready to go . . .

Pilot and Aircraft — ready to go . . .

~~~

Before I mount, I run my hand across his silky neck, and I remember my dad’s first airplane, when I was very young. After all, it was a horse – an airplane called a Piper Colt — a tiny economical two-seater with not metal, but a painted cloth exterior.

I remember Dad being extra careful in his preflight check to be sure there were no scrapes or tears in the thing. (Fortunately, there never were.)

Dad told my brother and me, “Don’t touch the skin – it’s thin as paper! You could poke your finger through it by mistake!”

Gee, Dad, I thought. How safe is that?

Dad with an earlier plane.

Dad with an earlier plane.

~~~

Fortunately my plane is made of proper flesh – no paint-coated cloth cut-outs for me.

I stand back and admire how he looks: Sturdy sleek lines, aerodynamic contours, built to take on the task at hand.

My open air, VariEze-Berkut-Lear-Jet experimental model (Starboy) is ready to take me into the skies!

I climb up onto his fuselage, clamor into his cockpit. Secure.

We idle out of the ranch, down the taxiway, ready to accelerate, to elevate, to leave earth’s gravity and experience the weightless thrill of unfettered flight.

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/de/VariEze_in_flight.jpg/320px-VariEze_in_flight.jpg

VariEze experimental aircraft designed by Burt Rutan. 

Photo Credit: Wikipedia: By Stephen Kearney (Personal collection.)

~~~

Once in the forest, I ease in the throttle – and we’re air-born – just like that! How effortlessly he melds with the winds aloft, soaring up the trail.

Sensitive, responsive, like the best-made craft, my horse climbs, hooves churning, pouring on the power, heaving forth into the great expanse.

His silken mane flaps with the currents, his hooves kick up dust-particle-vortices – beware traffic following too close behind!

Starboy's flying mane

Gliding, soaring, we yaw, pitch, and roll our way through the cool-air, wooded-wonderland, my face smiling in delight – whooping out loud, praising Starboy, awakening the little girl in me who always loves to fly.

I remember seeing houses, all the rows of houses and driveways and cars and swimming pools, and how small they looked from above.

I remember falling asleep in the back of Dad’s next, bigger airplane, his Beechcraft Bonanza, on the way home from Disneyland – at 2am – where Dad worked as Bandleader at the Park.

(Listen to Dad’s Disneyland music here: Elliott Brothers Orchestra at Disneyland  — Read more about Dad here: You Can Do Anything and Family of Flying.)

I remember half-awaking to the lullaby sound of the engine, feeling the bumps and swoops of flight, the plane gently caressing me — Dad in the cockpit, a serene look on his face — the small red light, and the glow of the instrument panel illuminating his profile.

I hear the sounds of the radio, static, clicking in and out, and the voice of Dad’s nightly Air Traffic Controller friend at the LAX tower, “How’s it going up there, Mickey Mouse?”

Old Control Tower at LAX

The Old Control Tower at LAX — in operation when Dad flew his nightly Disneyland commute.

~~~

I dodge a tree branch before it snaps me in the face, Starboy soaring, sailing his way upward.

The forest footing feels damp today, boggy in places, snow patches here and there. Not to fear. Acrobatic maneuvers are Starboy’s specialty!

He dances and darts to firmer ground, wiggles his wings, loops the loop and skillfully applies the laws of aerodynamics in his own horsey way.

We barnstorm the woods like a Curtis Jenny with it’s Hispano-Suiza engine my Grandfather told of from his 1918 days in the Army Air Service, WWI.

Grandfather vintage shot -- Curtis Jenny with Hispano Suisa engine.

Grandfather in mechanic suit, holding the prop.  — Curtis Jenny with Hispano Suisa engine.

I remember pouring through Grandfather’s vintage monotone photographs, held into the book by little black paste-on corners. His six-foot-tall frame looked small next to the massive cowling, props, and engine of the planes he flew and worked on as mechanic.

One day, after I started flying, Grandfather explained his favorite acrobatic maneuver, the Chandelle – think Flex-Straw.

He thrust his now-aged hand above him into a steep climb – steel-blue eyes following – rotating into an upward U-turn, doubling back and continuing on – smiling now, just a bit – re-living the thrills of his earlier adventures, before career and kids and life set in . . .

I took Grandfather flying just once, about two years after I’d gotten my pilot license – out of Santa Monica. He hadn’t been in a small plane since Dad had passed, a decade before.

I grabbed his wiry eightysomething arm and helped him into the cockpit next to me, where he sat stoic, looking out at the mountains, and homes, and landscapes below. (I remember the feeling of intense responsibility in piloting him, and great relief in returning him, unharmed, to Terra firma.)

Before he died, he gave me his log book, documenting fifty hours of flight training, as well as his original leather military flight helmet, faded and tattered by time. (Which, when I tried it on my head, fit, perfectly!)

Grandfather, U.S. Army Air Service, Fort Sill, Oklahoma.

Grandfather, U.S. Army Air Service, Fort Sill, Oklahoma.

~~~

Starboy’s reins feel warm in my gloved hands, transmitting soft contact through rudder and aileron, saddle and leg. No extra right rudder needed to offset this engine torque! Coordinated turns, perfect bank, my airplane’s motion satisfies my soul with fine-tuned grandeur.

And I realize how fortunate I am – how very few who set out to be pilots, very few who endeavor to be horsemen, really master the art, melding as one with their craft.

And I recall my own years of flight over these very mountains, alone at the controls of my rented Cherokee Warrior aircraft.

I remember well one crisp winter day, smiling, singing, weaving above ridgelines and canyons dusted in sugar-coated snow – songs of Judy Collins playing on my at-the-time high-tech Sony Walkman.

Rows and flows of angel hair

          And ice cream castles in the air

                   And feathered canyons everywhere,

                             I’ve looked at clouds that way…

Rows and Flows of Angel Hair

We turn onto a spur trail now, a shortcut toward home. Starboy’s neck stretches, his engine begs more RPM’s. I hold him back – I’m the pilot, he’s the craft. No runaway-out-of-control tailspins for us!

As we rise and fall with the updrafts, the forest smells beautiful today. Early winter silver boughs sparkle in the late-day sun. It’s a perfect flight on Starboy, doing what we love best…

And I remember my life back then, twentysomething entrepreneur, grabbing onto the yoke of life, the Fashion Industry’s fickle trends dictating my every move.

Sales, manufacturing, Boutique shows, employees. And yet all I really wanted was to find a way to make a living with horses. To ride – and fly – and soar into dimensions of the soul…

Here I am, third generation pilot, with a Piper Tomahawk. (My Mom shot this pic.)

Here I am, third generation pilot, with a Piper Tomahawk. (My Mom shot this pic.)

~~~
I never tire of the energy, the spectacle, the lightness of flight. How it lifts me out of my earthly doldrums and whisks me into whimsy. And now, here on Starboy, flying home. Satisfied.

Mid-life Dawn winks an eye at her former self, knowing that I’m flying again, like I always have. Cherishing my well-tuned craft and his subtle response to my slightest cues. Just the way it should be.

I’ve looked at life from both sides now,

          From here and there and still somehow

                   With life’s illusions I recall

                             I really don’t know life, at all…

Turning base, descending for our landing now, I see the houses of our valley – like the houses from the airplanes of my youth. And I smile. Big!

Because I’ve looked at life from both sides now, lived life from both sides up in the air, and down on the forested earth. And I’m here, flying Starboy right now just where I most like to be.

Starboy on the Trail

We touch down at the forest gate soft, smooth. Then taxi the final stretch to our glider’s home port.

Starboy whinnies, deeply, to the other members of his herd, who answer in shrill reply.

But instead of refueling with Avgas, my Bonanza-Warrior-Hispano-Suiza-Starboy dines tonight – on alfalfa hay!

Starboy in Sunlight

~~~~

Copyright 2012, 2015

~~~~

Like what you’ve read here? Please visit Dawn’s sister blog: Journal of Dawn

23 Comments

September 18, 2015 · 1:11 pm

Horseman’s Prayer of Praise – Reblog

It’s that time of year when I reflect on the Miracle of keeping horses – and all the commitment caring for them involves . . .

And now, as winter hits, their coats grow thick. Our riding time grows scarce.

Here’s a Reblog that seems to fit this sun-goes-down-early, trying time of year.

Christmas Horse

As I reflect on my lifelong love – and commitment – to horses, I remember wondering at times: Will I be able to care for them? Feed them? Keep them?

Thus far I’ve raised four generations, and at times it’s been absolutely challenging. The economy. The weather. Moves. Marriage. Children. Work. Health.

I wrote this poem with heart-felt angst after the economy dropped – going into winter’s snow and cold – December 2008. At that time I truly didn’t know how things would work out.

Thus its special meaning to me, because, indeed, God came through. : ~ )

Times got tough. We tightened our belts. Our family had to work long and hard. Yet our horses continued to be well-fed and cared for. And I consider that one of the Major Miracles of my life!

I believe God hears our cries – and also our praises. I believe we’re tasked with the job of praise!

So Horsemen, keep the faith going into winter this year . . .

Lord God, hear our Horseman’s Prayer:

Starboy in Sunlight

 

Horseman’s Prayer of Praise

 

Bless my horse, Lord God above,

Bless his gentle soul.

Keep him fat, keep him sleek

Keep him warm from cold.

 

Help me, God, my horse to keep

In good times and in bad.

Fodder in his feeder deep

And what ‘ere he needs to have.

 

I praise You for creating him

For entrusting him to my care.

For when life presses hard on me

My horse is always there.

 

His ears prick forth when I arrive,

Nostrils nicker hello

Happy hooves trod my way

And follow where ere I go.

 

Willingly he bears my weight,

Without complaint he soars

Where ‘ere I wish, he doth me take

As one who doth adore.

 

For You have made him strong and fast,

Faithful, swift and true.

Bless his soul where ‘ere he goes

For he’s my constant blessing from You.

 

And when he’s gone into the earth

Receive his gentle soul

For he’s lived his life with love and grace –

And fulfilled his earthly goal.

 

 Amen

 

Starboy at Sunset

 

D1000013(1)

Copyright 2008, 2013, 2014

4 Comments

December 31, 2014 · 7:54 pm

Wispy-Eyed Filly

My yearling filly, Hokuleia, my fourth generation foal, filled my dreams the other night. And I awoke with the impression of this:

~~~

Hokuleia biting my stirrup . . .

Hokuleia biting my stirrup . . .

Wispy-eyed filly,

bounding, leaping,

come from another

world  what can you

share with me

from your realm?

Beautiful Hokuleia

Your beauty. The

curved lines of your

lovely neck. An

innocent look,

filled with impish

explosions of

youthful joy . . .

Hokuleia Shadow Horse

Leaping, bounding from

your realm into mine.

A portal of hope.

A wild expression

of something

come here from

somewhere else.

Hokuleia Tin Shadow

I stand and pet

your outer limits —

your scruffy mane,

your fluffy coat,

your wispy face,

as if this is all

you are —

Hokuleia Ears and Eyes

Forgetting the regal

heritage of endless

generations past —

stallions and mares —

Bloodlines of

Princes and Kings.

General Patton.

Mare and Foal

And racehorses, and

plough horses. And

scrub Indian ponies,

with spotted coats.

Quarter horses.

Endurance horses.

Desert horses.

Family Shadows

Through your veins

flow the history of

our world, from

a different vantage.

From herds of freedom,

to beasts of burden,

to pawns of war.

Hokuleia Looking

With the intelligence

carried within your

bounding legs,

your flowing tail,

your swift instincts

which keep you

living, thriving.

leaves on haircoat

Along with the

ephemeral, the

otherworldly,

you represent

from somewhere

humans can no

longer go

Shadow Horse Full Moon

Unless carried by

you and your kind,

deep into the

outer reaches

of ancestry and

shamanism and

magic spells.

Hokuleia in tow

Oh wispy-eyed filly,

bounding, leaping,

come from another

world — thank you

for sharing your

magic with me!

Ever unfolding!

Hokuleia Silhouette

Carrying me,

transporting me into

the realm of your

rich heritage

through hoofbeats

and heartbeats and

wispy, horsey love!

~~~

Wispy-Eyed Hokuleia

~~~

Copyright 2014

 

7 Comments

May 19, 2014 · 12:49 am

When You Wish Upon a Horse

I dedicate this piece to Kathy — she told me today, she’s saving to buy her first horse. :)) Kathy, your horse awaits you. Dream on!

~~~

When You Wish Upon a Horse

She who awaits the perfect horse,

Knows it’s a matter of time, of course —

All life begins with desire,

Working strange Magic to set Souls on fire.

 

Your horse exists now, as surely you do —

It’s just a matter of time before your Dream will come true.

Hold onto your passion, look up to the stars,

Dream your horse Dreams, it’s really not far.

 

Horses have powers much bigger than you,

They knock on the heartstrings of only a few.

 

It’s hard to conceive, but believe me in this —

The horse will be yours when your Spirit persists

In holding your Dream with all that you’ve got,

When your love for horses is a true love so hot

 

That nothing will chill it — not let-downs or doubt —

Your horse is good as yours, and will truly come about.

So talk to your horse — as he already exists

There is a strange, wonderful power in this.

 

Pray and let Heaven take over the task —

It may take some time — but you’ll find her at last.

 

Then comes the real task, the learning to speak

The language of horses, the strong verses meek.

Read all that you can to prepare for the day

When you add to your budget the expense of the hay.

 

Learn all about horses while you now have the time.

And rejoice in the friendship you surely will find.

For Life has its challenges, the good and the bad,

Yet your horse will help you through sweet times and sad.

 

As Creatures of Magic — truly you’ll see —

Your horse will help mold you into what you will be!

~~~

d10003221.jpg

Horse Shoes (Moloka'i)

~~~

Copyright 2001, 2014

 

 

 

13 Comments

April 30, 2014 · 10:59 pm

What is a Ride?

Heavenly Synchronicity — found this sweet poetic duo in my Journal, dated exactly twelve years ago today! It captures the feel of my wonderful horses, my wonderful rides. Sharing it with you here, winter time, when riding seems far away . . .

 

What is a Ride?

 

Rhythm

Motion

Thundering Hooves

Flowing

Freedom

Spirits soar

 

Synchronized

Harmonized

Metronomed Motion

Fantasized

Comes alive

Craving more

 

Sure-footed

Bobsled

Bounding o’er fallen logs

Swift-flying —

Sidestepping

Branches in our path —

 

Galloping

Laughing

Surging Slalom,

Transforming

Life’s doldrums

Into absolute blast!

 

Magical

Communion

Discreetly perceived,

Fused

United

Melding ease

 

Soaring

Surging

Powerful, Pure

Freedom

Motion

Mutual rapport

 

Surging Light

 

I hop into my saddle

And sail off into the forest

On my Rocking Horse Canter,

Feeling my body roll

 

In harmony with the

Hypnotic motion of my

Pony’s impassioned gallop,

Energized! Alive!

 

Glassy, Glossy, Silken, Grand,

I flow in his movement and

Meld onto his back like a custom-made

Glove on a hand —

 

A perfect fit with perfect Tempo

Gaining momentum as we pulse

Over crests and troughs

In our fickle path.

 

Waves and Currents steer our course

Whim and Fancy spur us on

Our forward-flowing liquid journey

We continue thundering strong.

 

Smells of fragrant vanilla pine bark

Meet my senses, tearing eyes.

Dodging branches, ducking, dipping

Labyrinth obstacles, all in stride.

 

In these woods the Spirit overflows,

Transforms my steed

Into a magical fantasy of

Power-driven speed . . .

 

Here are found my favorite day-dreams,

Releasing me from traffic, work or strife

This my treasured time of solace

With my Pony, surging light.

~~~

Life is a Journey

~~~

Copyright 2002, 2014

6 Comments

February 25, 2014 · 12:53 am

Horseman’s Prayer of Praise

As I reflect on my lifelong love – and commitment – to horses, I remember wondering at times: Will I be able to care for them? Feed them? Keep them?

Thus far I’ve raised four generations, and at times it’s been absolutely challenging. The economy. The weather. Moves. Marriage. Children. Divorce. Work. Health.

I wrote this poem with heart-felt angst after the economy dropped – going into winter’s snow and cold – December 2008. At that time I truly didn’t know how things would work out.

Thus its special meaning to me, because, indeed, God came through. : ~ )

Times got tough. We tightened our belts. Our family had to work long and hard. Yet our horses continued to be well-fed and cared for. And I consider that one of the Major Miracles of my life!

I believe God hears our cries – and also our praises. I believe we’re tasked with the job of praise! So Horsemen, keep the faith going into winter this year . . .

Lord God, hear our Horsemen’s Prayer:

Horseman’s Prayer of Praise

Bless my horse, Lord God above,

Bless his gentle soul.

Keep him fat, keep him sleek

Keep him warm from cold.

 

Help me, God, my horse to keep

In good times and in bad.

Fodder in his feeder deep

And what ‘ere he needs to have.

 

I praise You for creating him

For entrusting him to my care.

For when life presses hard on me

My horse is always there.


His ears prick forth when I arrive,

Nostrils nicker hello

Happy hooves trod my way

And follow where ere I go.

 

Willingly he bears my weight,

Without complaint he soars

Where ‘ere I wish, he doth me take

As one who doth adore.

 

For You have made him strong and fast,

Faithful, swift and true.

Bless his soul where ‘ere he goes

For he’s my constant blessing from You.

 

And when he’s gone into the earth

Receive his gentle soul

For he’s lived his life with love and grace –

And fulfilled his earthly goal.

 

 Amen

D1000013(1)

Copyright 2008, 2013

10 Comments

December 27, 2013 · 10:09 pm

My Body is a Workhorse

My body awaits the day

Like a workhorse.

Like a racehorse.

It knows that soon

It shall be put to task.

~~~

How has society changed enough for a woman to seek out and learn to shoe horses?

What has happened to the “weaker sex”?

When I first began trimming my own barefoot horses’ hooves, twentysomething years ago – in my 30’s – it challenged me.

And I arose to the task.

It took two years of fumbling – with the tools, the skills, the posturing – to become even somewhat comfortable.

Hawaiian Hoof Trim

Six years later, when I got Max (with his old heel injury – requiring shoes) and hauled him to Chatsworth for my farrier-uncle to fix, I sized up the situation: I had to learn.

Not just to trim.

But to shoe.

For Max – in order for Max to stay sound.

That meant learning how to: Nail, shape, clinch, pull – an extremely challenging, physical skill set! Done all the while, bending over-down-up-down . . .  Underneath, and HOLDING UP the horse!

(In the beginning it hurt so bad, I couldn’t walk for three days.)

I remember thinking: “I wish it were a year from now!”

For I knew that I’d be much better at all this after a year.

Santi Hoof

Now, nearly two decades later, I am indeed much better.

I still maintain my own horses’ hooves.

I’ve also established a hoofcare and farrier practice, trimming and shoeing and keeping many other horses sound.

But, I’m older now.

And age has a way of eating away at you. As it should, slowing you down a little bit.

Good 'ol Chap

~~~

. . . The working parts on the car wear out first: Belts, bearings, transmission, alternator.

In humans: Shoulders, knees, neck, wrist, thumbs. (Feet, too!)

And her perspective at fiftysomething is far different from her thirtysomething past.

She works slower, happier. Eats better, rests more. She works smarter.

(Lighter, brighter, less pain now, Gluten-Free : ~ )

The years tick on – and still she does the work.

The commitments loom greater with age.

And the gargantuan effort she throws into the task

Appears easy to those who look on . . .

DawnHoof

~~~

My body is a workhorse.

And I work with horses.

And the horses are the

Leisurely in this generation,

And we humans are the

Workhorses now.

Strange!

Dawn and Fable

Copyright 2013

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August 31, 2013 · 8:12 pm

Aria, My Pegasus

“Aria’s not just a horse.  Aria’s my Pegasus!” DawnHoof

Aria flies and floats along the path,

With rhythmic movement,

Seeing – not as a horse sees,

Reacting – not as a horse reacts.

Aria Running

Aria Running

Aria possesses the freshness of Nature —

Riding trails she’s never seen before

With an elegant grace beyond

Her tender, ‘green’ years.

(She’s just turning 6 at the time of this writing — 11 now, in 2018)

Beyond a mere horse – as splendid as horses are,

Into the realm of Fantasy.

My Fantasy!

img_5631

My Pegasus Horse sniffs

The wind and carries me to Magical Places.

Always willing, always forward,

Lifting both my earthly weight, and hers,

Freely.  Effortlessly.  Without hesitation.

Lifting my SOUL and heart and

Passion for Life, in the process!

Aria looking

Aria restores my faith in God,

In Life’s Bigger Picture – that all things certainly do

Work together for good – even her

Broken knee at 4-months of age

(the Vets wanted to euthanize)

Which by prayer and herbs,

Love and fate, healed and

Meshed to 100% perfection!

Beyond coincidence.  Beyond chance.

Filly Aria

Filly Aria, 2007

God knew His plans for her, for us

And the importance she plays in my

Four-generation horse genealogy.

Aria, the Granddaughter of my foundation mare, Fanta,

Niece of Starboy, Daughter of Faramir,

Daughter of Fae, Sister of Laddie,

Mother of Hokuleia, heir-apparent

Of all that is good from that now-famous line –

Arabian/Appaloosa/Shire/Thoroughbred/Running Quarter

– Bloodlines that look and flow like a Morgan,

Gaited, I swear, her running-trot

So smooth and fluid, my head never bobs,

Speeding so fast, the others

Must canter to keep pace.

Aria Shadow Rock

Aria Shadow Rock — Malibu

Aria, My Pegasus.

My 3rd-Generation Mare,

Each one improving those before,

Actualizing my Childhood Dreams,

Fulfilling my Horsey Whimsy.

Satisfying every ounce of my Soul!

~~~

Frilly Horse

Copyright 2013, 2018

6 Comments

July 24, 2013 · 12:38 am

My Horse is So Cute!

This poetic piece from July 2013, inspired during a quick-moving ride on Starboy — deep into the woods, sprinting across the sand wash, searching for a fresh way to communicate the thrill of a great ride — brought these images to mind :))   DawnHoof

My horse is a Beach Boy, a Beatle, a Lovin’ Spoonful.
The Doors singing endless loops of “Light My Fire!”

He’s a Corvette, a Porsche, a Ferrari.

His long black mane flaps in the breeze –
The very ends flip up, leaving lacy shadows
on the ground beneath his neck.

~~~

My Horse is the perfect boyfriend.

He takes me out – we go out on dates all the time
– out into Nature. If only he’d pay the way . . .

He carries me across rain ruts, across streambeds,
over thresholds and through gateways of every kind.

He’s so polite, he opens every door for me.

He knows I like to go fast – and he likes to go FAST, too . . .

~~~

My horse is Disneyland, Magic Mountain,
Six Flags, Irwindale Raceway –

My horse is a hot rod, a dragster, a funny car,
a Shelby GT 350.

The Monorail, the Matterhorn, the Viper,
Space Mountain.

~~~

My Horse is so smooth, he’s buttery Chardonnay,
made in small batches in French Oak barrels.

He’s Pinot Noir, the really expensive stuff – Vintners Reserve.
My horse is fine Brandy, Cointreau,
Irish Crème, Italian Limoncello.

Tiramisu, cheesecake, tart key lime pie.

~~~

My horse is my soul-mate  – through
blood, sweat – and years – his lineage
passed down through four generations . . .

My Dream Horse, My Little Pony,
My Pegasus, My Unicorn.
He satisfies all my horsey dreams!

~~~

My Horse is an Eagle, a Condor, a Falcon,
soaring the hillsides and valleys with
precision and ease.

My Horse is an ocean with glimmering
sunbeams, moonbeams – forever
dancing and shimmering with light.

~~~

Starboy's mane

 Copyright 2013

3 Comments

July 13, 2013 · 2:35 pm

My Horse is a River

My horse is a river. I prepare once again to bathe in his tidepool and wade in his will.

I submerge in his cool waters to refresh my soul — and drink, deep and long — as often as I may.

Taking a breath, I close my eyes and dive into his saddle.

Where will we go? His current will take me. How long will we ride? As long as we may!

My horse is a swiftly flowing river, with ever-changing moods. He waxes overflowing, exuberant with life.

With endless gallops and carefree abandon, he satisfies my childhood dreams.

~~~

My horse carries me to distant shores. I merge into his watery depths, surrendering my heart.

His movement sweeps me away from time and space, washes my spirit and cleanses my senses.

I immerse my body in the rapids of his powerful currents. His hidden eddies capture the secret of my soul.

~~~

Sun sparkles off my horse’s silken coat like a thousand moonbeams. Dazzling. Hypnotic.

My horse’s sweat smells sweet as he surges ‘round the next bend, ever seeking the new, the fresh, the surreal.

Nostrils flared, ears pricked forward, my horse is freedom in motion.

His hooves beat to the sound of water rushing, tumbling toward distant mountains and verdant pastures.

His mane flows like water surging over rocks in its course as I ride his swell and surf his waves.

Laughing, exuberant, we gallop headlong into the sublime.

~~~

As long as there is a sun and a sky, my horse will transport me to new reaches of discovery as his floodgates open and pour me into the watery depths of his soul.

~~~

Hide

Copyright 2013

3 Comments

May 8, 2013 · 1:58 pm

Tuesday Evening Ride

My horse carries me

Surging, pulsing

Through the sand wash,

Through the sagebrush,

Leaping, powering

Embodying pure joy.

~~~

Setting sun blinds me

But my faithful horse

Carries me, melds with me –

He, my eyes,

He, my legs,

He, my will.

~~~

I drop my seat

Deep into my saddle,

Trusting my horse

To protect me,

To keep me,

To carry me as he always has,

~~~

Into realms of wilderness

And wonder,

Of daylight and moonlight –

Making magical memories

Of a simple Tuesday

Evening ride.

~~~

Mustang Mirror -- Cropped

Copyright 2013

5 Comments

January 3, 2013 · 6:27 am

Aladdin’s Wings

Dancing Horse

My horse is Aladdin’s carpet, transporting me on a magic ride.

He soars like an eagle over the mountain tops up Liebre Peak. Liebre means freedom, and he carries me to freedom each time we ride.

My horse’s canter is smooth as silk, glassy morning air before the wind comes up. Our bodies meld as we soar the trails, feeding my soul.

His flowing mane pumps the air like graceful wings, bringing us higher, deeper – like the eagle – into the freedom of the great outdoors.

Rows and Flows of Angel Hair

I’ve seen an eagle, alone and with its mate, upon several occasions. (Golden Eagle)

At first I thought them to be condors, hanging in the thermals like slow moving formation-bombers, with broad wingspan and hypnotic, deliberate wingbeats. Definitely not a hawk.

Hawks are quick and noble, but the eagle is also grand. Majestic. The sight of one stops your heart and takes your breath away. A symbol of something unobtainable.

You find yourself stopping, staring, drinking in the experience, in an almost spiritual way.

And just when it appears he’s coming your way, he veers, and separates, your neck straining for a better view, like he knew you were there, waiting for him, admiring him.

But he chose a more secret aside . . .

High-fling Condor

California Condor, soaring, Mt. Pinos range in background (Los Padres National Forest).

 

As if he knew, without his secrecy, his mystique would disappear, and vanish as quickly as he does. 

(Like the mountain lion tracks I saw one January, left fresh in the snow.) 

You know so little of his daily regime, but pride yourself in thinking you’ve somehow shared with him, touched him with your fleeting knowledge that he was here.

After all, you saw him soar . . .

“That’s where the mountain lion walked, that thin rut through the brambles is his trail. And he reappeared here, by the downed oak tree, and his tracks ambled westward into the dense underbrush.

“And here is where the Golden Eagle flew. We studied him long and in awe as he soared, hovered, and then folded his massive wings, dove and disappeared as from thin air.”

Cosmic images forever preserved. Within me. Within this particular spot in the trail . . .   

Fae Shoes - all 4

My horse’s hoofbeats thunder beneath me, shouting freedom with every stride.

Sunlight kisses his neck, the same setting sun that reflected on the eagle. It goldens and deepens and captures my gaze.

But my eagle is obtainable.

My eagle doesn’t elude me.

My eagle carries me, like Aladdin, into magical realms, and the tapestry of his flying mane weaves a safety net for my soul!

DawnHoof

Starboy's flying mane

Copyright 2012, 2020

Photos:  Dawn Jenkins

~~~~

Higher and Higher

Please also visit my Life Blog, Journal of Dawn ,
for Strategies and Insights into the
Journey of Life

~~~~

Fae on the trail

Join Dawn for a Soul Horse Ride!  Experience the thrill of becoming one with your Horse . . . Join Dawn and her homegrown herd for a Soul Horse Ride in the
Frazier Park Outback!

Call to book your Life-Changing Adventure today:  (661) 703-6283

~~~~

 

 

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December 31, 2012 · 4:21 am