The stag wandered toward me
At first, I thought it a dream
The yellow-faced moon, big bellied
Full of fertile wishes
Including mine own (and not mine own)
But two hardened hooves pounded into the newly thawed ground
With a loud HUFF, the horned stag tilted
Announcing his charge
That's when I stood up in challenge
Tall and proud and unafraid
Just then, the stag stopped cold
Taking two steps back, he maintained eye contact
Bowing and bobbing his head
He did that three times
Before I extended an open palm
My head, bowed low like my lithe body
My arms, stretched wide, like a bird in flight
The stag took a step closer
Swaying as he approached
Ah...the ancient dance had finally begun!
The stars faintly twinkled above
As greyish clouds swept across the whispering moon
The new leaves of the Crimson King brustled at my boldness
But Michael, hovering just above the tree line
Let loose a feathery token of his pride
It floated down between me and the stag
I curtsied low to pick up my prize
As I did, I felt the stag's breath on my neck
Even the moon half-hid behind the pines in that moment
But it was part of the dance....
My hand naturally went up to the stag's flank
My hair, brushing the crest of his chest
As I continued to rise (and rise...and still, I rise)
My eye met his
The moon rested there, reflecting back at me as if mirrored in the surface of a still pond
Just to see me
See me dance
Dance with a stag
In the moonlight
Under the stars
The wild wind picked up
Whipping around my tiny house on a hill
That's when the feather flew from my hand
Catching in my nest of curls
As a tiny bat bravely fluttered by
With barely a sound, the stag (and his white tail) ran down the hill
But just before disappearing into the forest
He stopped
Turning toward me,
He bowed his hoary, heavy head
Closing my eyes, bending low at the waist
I returned the favour
But when I stood again, the stag vanished into the night
I was alone
Except for the moon...and, Michael
Smiling down at me
Like he did the first day we met
In the old farm field
After I lost my daughter
After I lost many things
Never my wings though...
Invisible as they are
They still drag on the dusty ground behind me
Permanently stained at the tips
Streaked with blood...and many, many tears.
At first, I thought it a dream
The yellow-faced moon, big bellied
Full of fertile wishes
Including mine own (and not mine own)
But two hardened hooves pounded into the newly thawed ground
With a loud HUFF, the horned stag tilted
Announcing his charge
That's when I stood up in challenge
Tall and proud and unafraid
Just then, the stag stopped cold
Taking two steps back, he maintained eye contact
Bowing and bobbing his head
He did that three times
Before I extended an open palm
My head, bowed low like my lithe body
My arms, stretched wide, like a bird in flight
The stag took a step closer
Swaying as he approached
Ah...the ancient dance had finally begun!
The stars faintly twinkled above
As greyish clouds swept across the whispering moon
The new leaves of the Crimson King brustled at my boldness
But Michael, hovering just above the tree line
Let loose a feathery token of his pride
It floated down between me and the stag
I curtsied low to pick up my prize
As I did, I felt the stag's breath on my neck
Even the moon half-hid behind the pines in that moment
But it was part of the dance....
My hand naturally went up to the stag's flank
My hair, brushing the crest of his chest
As I continued to rise (and rise...and still, I rise)
My eye met his
The moon rested there, reflecting back at me as if mirrored in the surface of a still pond
Just to see me
See me dance
Dance with a stag
In the moonlight
Under the stars
The wild wind picked up
Whipping around my tiny house on a hill
That's when the feather flew from my hand
Catching in my nest of curls
As a tiny bat bravely fluttered by
With barely a sound, the stag (and his white tail) ran down the hill
But just before disappearing into the forest
He stopped
Turning toward me,
He bowed his hoary, heavy head
Closing my eyes, bending low at the waist
I returned the favour
But when I stood again, the stag vanished into the night
I was alone
Except for the moon...and, Michael
Smiling down at me
Like he did the first day we met
In the old farm field
After I lost my daughter
After I lost many things
Never my wings though...
Invisible as they are
They still drag on the dusty ground behind me
Permanently stained at the tips
Streaked with blood...and many, many tears.
RSS Feed