I woke upon some hunter’s wall
and could not feel my limbs at all;
my body gone, in fear, I screamed
but, thank the stars, it was a dream.
Rejoicing; in my life, I thrilled;
stood proudly then upon my hill;
my lightning horns raised to the sky
and bellowed forth a thunderous cry.
Rejoiced in my majestic kind;
the brave Hart’s and beautiful Hinds,
rejoiced to live, to run, be free
then, when I die, become a tree.
Comments
skinner_jennifer | August 2, 2011 - 15:16
Really loved this John.
A real tribute to such a wonderful creature.
Jenny.
well-wisher | August 2, 2011 - 18:19
Thankyou, Jenny.
I've never known why men feel the need to prove their masculinity by killing animals and sticking their heads on walls, especially when a living Stag
is a glorious example of the masculine in nature while a stags head on a wall is like the castration
of nature.
JoHn
Highhat | August 3, 2011 - 06:59
I agree with Jenny-and I love your outlook on nature. I never did understand hunters at all with all the macabre trophies???
well-wisher | August 3, 2011 - 16:07
Thankyou very much, Pia. Really glad you liked it.
A few years ago I was in a hotel that was full of stuffed animals and animal heads and it did feel like a place full of death.
JoHn