walk softly

I wish it to be so
To inhabit the world with my heart,
and not my ears. Just knowing.

When the sap loosens and there is a groaning
In the top branches
Does the whole stand reply in silence ?

Her tail flashes and her spotted-one listens.
Their fear is quelled by recollection
of the meadow
and their own salty runestone.

Behind velvet eyes,
Pain and beauty coexist; without my words.
They feast on wild plum trees.
I wish to be
free of my desire to give them a name.

My contribution to Camera Critters during this busy, magical time of year. . .a deer in the brush at Snail Lake on the day after Thanksgiving. The only sounds I heard were of tiny chickadees and then familiar crunching of leaves and sticks under tiny hooves. There she was with the new sun coming up on her winter meadow. I've included a poem from earlier times that filled my heart when I saw 'summer deer' feasting on wild plums.

Visit Misty Dawn's meme Camera Critters for more animal pleasures. Happy December Weekend, my bloggy friends!