Imaginary balance lingers like a doe feeding
until she catches your eye and darts into shadow
elusive as the thread that held you to her,
transfixed, rooted,
bathed in the naked face of now
where acknowledgment of nirvana forces capitulation
to the scurries of illusion that make hearts flutter
giving birth to wings and feet
that wake earthbound forms from hiding
aware for a moment,
there is no lack under fullness.
Doors, on the other hand, are human constructs,
holding candlelight between walls,
casting night aside.
The doe prefers darkness,
breathing for the balance of her steady beating heart.
Brenda Warren 2013
Visit The Sunday Whirl.
doors are human constructs, yes.. doors of all kinds..
so lovely
LikeLike
Lovely imagery – vivid and powerful – I wonder, like Viv, if these were the words from last week?
LikeLike
could clearly see the image of the doe running away from sight – great poem!
LikeLike
Beautifully wordled Brenda!
LikeLike
I think I’d prefer the dark as well.
LikeLike
I am transfixed by that image, right in the center of the poem, of waking earthbound forms from hiding. It is glorious!
Whirling Glimpses
LikeLike
WOW! Brenda – I do think this is one of your finest – as elegant, delicate, and exquisite as a deer in the night words walking across the page in the perfect balance. Brilliantly beautiful 🙂
LikeLike
Beautiful scene, beautiful words and I have to agree that “bathed in the naked face of now” was spine tingling.
LikeLike
Beautifully worded metaphor.
LikeLike
A magical doe-eyed moment captured. Intriguing & elusive quality yet
“there is no lack under fullness.”
LikeLike
Did you link your last week’s wordle poem by mistake?
LikeLike
beautiful.
LikeLike
“Doors, on the other hand, are human constructs,” this line made me so sad.
LikeLike
I want to offer you my respect and continued affection – you’ve been nominated:
http://paulatohlinecalhoun1951.wordpress.com/2013/02/20/dearest/
LikeLike
The doe seems both fragile and resilient in this piece..in the world..she knows what she needs to survive even though the thread is tenuous.. loved the rhythm..like her concentrated breathing.
LikeLike
I think if you had put in Buck instead of Doe you could have described a scene I had with a local deer late last fall. I like too how this is not dark, not sugar sweet, but just right.
Thanks for your visit.
LikeLike
Beautiful, Brenda… I especially like: where acknowledgment of nirvana forces capitulation
to the scurries of illusion that make hearts flutter
LikeLike
Oh to be invisible and scentless to observe those magic moments…
LikeLike
Brenda, so many good lines in this, but I have to say the one that De mentioned is my favourite. Beautiful poem on this elusive nature of the deer.
Pamela
LikeLike
That thread is so tenuous as you assess each other, one in fear and the other in wonder, both wary of any signs of aggression. Can either be trusted…not yet. There is nothing like that feeling of an encounter in the wild.
LikeLike
Really like this Brenda, you captured imagination with your metaphor of the doe. First you see her, then she’s gone. Especially like your final lines. I did put the source up on my site. Not sure anyone saw it. Thanks for letting me participate. This one was a bit difficult for me because I knew the source.
Elizabeth
http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/
LikeLike
Oh, man. This line snags my heart:
“elusive as the thread that held you to her”
Gorgeous and sad. Somehow makes me ache to run, through forest and glade…until I too am “bathed in the naked face of now.” Fantastic.
LikeLike