The
Hunter’s Moon
Seeking the
graced sight
of the
Hunter’s Moon,
I left the
bright lights
of the
house behind me,
and, bundling
myself
against the
cold,
I took the
wooded path
to the
place
where I
could watch her rise,
fierce and
cold against
the purple
dark sky.
There I blessed
her
for
blessing me in turn
with such
light:
pure and
cold and bright,
gilding the
sea golden beneath her
as she rose;
my silver
sister of the sky above:
the Lady’s
lamp,
a guide for
all who wander
and wonder
in turn.
Finally,
when the cold bit
into my
already aching bones
too much,
leaving
moon to her meditations,
I left for
home.
Trudging
darkly along
the wooded
path
discerning
its grey
pebble skinned
presence
barely a
step or two ahead
I was
gifted
with the sudden
awareness
of unaloneness
and paused
in the
pitch dark
not sure of
what old sense
had been
alerted, nor why.
Then,
carefully kindling
the little lamp
I carried
I sudden
saw twelve sets of eyes
gaze
glowing from off the path
and realized
in front of me,
our holy
herd of deer.
Down from
the rutting hills
they had
come silent as the dusk
that
surrounded us, perhaps,
to pay
their own homage to the lady
high above
us all.
Horse high
and seeming huge they were,
I heard now
their breathing,
their
antlers broad between the branches,
utterly
still they stood and stared
as we
regarded each other,
“Well met
by moonlight”, I thought,
as I,
awestruck in stillness also
bowed
deeply to these
old ones of
the woods,
the first
Lords and Ladies
of these
sainted lands.
Then,
stepping back into the dark
I left them
to their silent vigil
and made
for home,
my heart elated
by that moonlit magic
recalling eden’s evenings
when all
were one
before Him.
Later,
making tea,
I wondered
how often
on our grey
and often seeming
daily darkened
path
we have,
all about us beings
carrying
such, and even
greater
blessings,
but never
notice, shut in
as we are,
behind
our
curtained glass,
sitting lost
before
our
flickering screens,
while they,
keep their
ancient vigil too,
waiting for
us to touch
stillness
long enough,
deep
enough, to discern their
moonlit
presence
and, at
last, know ourselves to be,
with them,
one
before the
One, from whom
the light
and dark
and deer
arise.
Sat Oct 26th
2018