|Bells at Hawkscry|
Napping in the sun at Hawkscry,
one of those scrumptious naps, turned on my side,
hip pressed against the Earth,
once in a while opening one eye
to the wonder before me in the sun,
-dogwood, poplar, oak, all new, all Spring!
I fall back into a timeless snooze.
At once I become aware of a rustling behind me,
a busy-ness. Someone is passing here!
Slowly I turn myself over, and behind the shed,
easy, careful, stately,
four deer step, wide-eyed, unafraid of me.
I turn, eyes wide too, to soak in this wonder.
Four deer! in the woods, where none had been.
Three step along slowly, regarding me gently,
and I them, as they move slowly up the mountain.
One of them, suddenly strange, leaps up and gallops ahead,
snorting, loud, a warning:
“She is human. Beware! They can hurt! They can hurt!”
And, despite all the noise, the frantic ruckus, the fleeing one,
the three does stay, regarding me, at peace, sisters.
Just me here, lover of Gaia, full of awe.
Heedless of the panicked one, they step, graceful,
dancing with me, with our eyes,
a Sabbath of respect.
|My writing cabin|