Little Red Deer

At the forest 

  edge,

twigs rustle, 

papery leaves

betray

a vision of grace

  emerging

from behind 

my chair.

Staring intently

liquid coals

will me

to turn…

You nibble 

a few grasses

at my feet

without fear.

We meet

on pine strewn paths

or when I trim

 cherry or rose

plucking old thorns.

At dawn you stand

outside my window.

I encounter you on

the road.

You must be following me

 for a reason.

Between us,

Kinship exists, 

 a mystical bond

not bound

by time –

a silvery thread

woven between

species in gold –

Your choice

not mine.

Too thin –

almost gaunt

from hunger?

Do I imagine

Deep Longing?

Our bond

a fragrant flower

 bone

to bone.

anemone

You dined

 on my anemones

nibbled 

sweet honeysuckle

lilies too. 

If

sharing flowers

with you

helps those

ribs to recede,

then take

what you need.

Please! 

Friendships

are scarce –

vanish

without reason

in a field

of dreams.

 I treasure

this meeting

of soul and body

burnished red skin

your peaceful 

countenance, 

  ears that listen.

We are present

for each other

in that place

beneath words.

I wonder if

you mourn

  lost forest

 as I do –

or is it a dead

fawn that

was taken

from you?

Either way

Peace abounds

when we share

field and stream

 trees bearing fruit

 in this

finite oasis,

Our Beloved Home.

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