The Marvel of Beauty
There were two horses wearing bedsheets over their heads. In their pasture, which they could not see, there was a breeze that shuffled the strands of grass; there were crickets hopping and catching a ride on the breeze; there were frogs who sat below the breeze and the grass, sending their tongues into the blue sky to catch the crickets who thought they were riding the breeze… The horses searched for one another in such a pasture and listened for the rustling of hooves in the wild grass; and when the horses met, they brought their snouts together and kissed like the penguins do. “I wish I could feel your mouth,” said one of the horses. And the other horse was silent—like a ghost. In those days, that was beauty.