Poem 126:

The Hunter


From beyond the valley edge
the sun with a single stroke
shall awaken from night’s dream
the deer, the fawn and roe

Along canyon walls
sparrows and blue jays
prepare their morning song
to mark the approaching dawn,
the coming of day

While doe and fawn
stand in bold relief,
nibbling upon an autumn leaf,
time and meadow begin a dance
to decide the fate of who will go
and who will stay, this frosty morn

Time quietly watches from the rim
a silent truth to sketch below
allows each creature to construe
the choice, the path to pursue

With rifle in hand
the hunter waits upon the rim
gazing beyond those canyon walls,
for his prize, grazing upon the land

Yet, this day he will choose
a path  he never before knew
to hear the silence of a rising sun,
to feel the presence of the valley below

This morning no shot will be fired,
no prize will he take,
of deer feeding in the meadow,
calmly, ever so calmly by the lake

Peace shall prevail on a frosty morn
set upon a canyon long forgot
today the valley chose to spare,
the hunter who came, without a shot

© 2012 by James Spruell All rights reserved

Poem (updated) originally posted in my old site: utahwhispers

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