The film’s slow motion battle, was so realistic, I felt transported to an actual battle and forgot these horses weren’t actually being harmed. The horses majestic innocence, being led into a maelstrom that they had no part in making seemed so distorted.
The fact, they were directed by the masters they trusted into a hell of unimaginable proportions seemed so perverted.
My son is a teenager now. He plays baseball, an exquisite sport I only learned to love through my son. As I watch his team out on the field, and begin to learn the other boy’s names and get a feeling for their personalities and quirks, I am awed by their majesty. These young bucks, strapping embodiments of life, stretching the physical limits God gave them, yet laughing with humor and grace, reminds me of wild horses gavanting on the open range. The impending potential of living life fully, sucking the marrow from existence on the meadow of limitless possibility, is an image these boys share with the majestic grace of horses.
I’m sobered by the realization that these boys are nearly old enough to fight in wars. The sad intensity of innocent horses being led to a slaughter they did not create, nor would have ever dreamed of in their innocent state of grace, is an image that haunts me. I could not imagine anywhere in the world I would fear so much to send these boys into the jaws of hell we call war. I pray to God we have learned our lesson.
The fact, they were directed by the masters they trusted into a hell of unimaginable proportions seemed so perverted.
My son is a teenager now. He plays baseball, an exquisite sport I only learned to love through my son. As I watch his team out on the field, and begin to learn the other boy’s names and get a feeling for their personalities and quirks, I am awed by their majesty. These young bucks, strapping embodiments of life, stretching the physical limits God gave them, yet laughing with humor and grace, reminds me of wild horses gavanting on the open range. The impending potential of living life fully, sucking the marrow from existence on the meadow of limitless possibility, is an image these boys share with the majestic grace of horses.
I’m sobered by the realization that these boys are nearly old enough to fight in wars. The sad intensity of innocent horses being led to a slaughter they did not create, nor would have ever dreamed of in their innocent state of grace, is an image that haunts me. I could not imagine anywhere in the world I would fear so much to send these boys into the jaws of hell we call war. I pray to God we have learned our lesson.
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