Horse Spirit

Photo: Palaeolithic art at Foz Côa’s Archaeological Park, Portugal 

 

“Why do you hit the rock with sharpened stones?”

Golin quaked under The Elder’s frown. It was forbidden to harm The Rocks That Shelter. The big stones protected them from biting teeth and snarling maws. They stopped the wind. They held back scorching sun. They reflected heat from fires.

And let flames paint shadows, Golin thought.

“He will drive away Horse Spirit and we will starve,” Morsen scowled predictably.

“Let him answer,” The Elder said.

Morsen seethed. The old man always favored Golin.

“The Rocks That Shelter do not anger when the fire lives in them,” Golin pointed at the dancing reflection on the wall.

“He makes no sense,” Morsen pouted. A few others nodded but The Elder’s stony gaze did not leave Golin’s face.

“They draw the fire near,” Golin stressed. Couldn’t they see? “Perhaps The Rocks That Shelter will welcome Horse Spirit and call it here.”

 

 

For What Pegman Saw: Douro, Portugal

 

Path to Light

Path to light SmadarHalperinEpshtein

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein

 

A long way stretches forward

Past the past

Toward light,

As they walk

In the footsteps

Of those who’d been here

And passed.

 

 

For the Which Way challenge

And Lens-Artists Challenge: Path

 

Long Unseen

Archeology Tel Zafit AtaraKatz

Photo: Atara Katz

 

As the stories unfold

Pried from time’s

Stranglehold

Bit by bit

You’ll behold

What the fingers

Of old

Would have seen

Could have told.

 

For the d’Verse Poets challenge: Unseen Things

 

Broken Whole

grindstone base AtaraKatz

Photo: Atara Katz

 

As the cracked places show

Marks of toil

Disavowed

And the grooves of grain passed

Whisper tales of

Repast

Broken pieces reflect

Wholeness more than

Regret.

 

 

For The Daily Post