Poem of the Day: “the hunter at dawn”


the hunter at dawn

upon stepping out this morning
i notice Orion, The Hunter has returned

someone once told me the elves
speak of no fell thing until he is in the sky

this morning the  tiny Pleiades
look like a Pronghorn in his distance

i remind myself; the Hunter watches, learns
his two wings are discipline and patience

the Hunter stalks the routine character and habits
of others as well as one’s own to better know thyself

the things out there in the dark do not go bump
but are, by feather and footfall, hunting in silence

the work of the day allows the time for play,
the way unfolds to fuel our dreaming selves

 

 

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2 responses to “Poem of the Day: “the hunter at dawn”

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