The Stag

 

Native hunter through wooded glen

With crafted stealth does attend

Tracks leading through forests green

He well hidden, to not be seen

 

Tracks deeper now where did pass

Through dampened fen, near shaded grass

A tuft of hair mixed with heavy scent

With days light now being mostly spent

 

With body painted, colored to blend

With sole intent does he quietly wend

He stalks the Great Stag as death’s guest

His deadly shaft will anoint endless rest

 

The Great Buck senses a threat lurking near

But no sound reaches a flickering of ear

The warrior hunter downwind no scent

The Great Beast’s caution still not content

 

A soft moccasin crackles, upon dry leaf

To Wary Buck, this portent of grief

Antlers flash as dusk yields to night

A silent shaft makes good its true flight

 

A deathly shock to that once living free

But death abhors life’s false boundary

The shaft that invades the fading of light

Offers dark comfort within the cradle of night

 

The Great Stag crashes his last remain

Through dark woods where once he did reign

No concerns now of a careless tread

He will run until he’s been bled

 

The wood land is quiet at night

Gone now the Great Stags initial fright

The huntsman follows, still out of sight

Through black trees, moon’s filtered light

 

His journey on legs that barely respond

The Stag sees now that peace lays beyond

The way he saw, which now he does follow

Through dark wood to Death’s warming hollow

 

In this sheltered place, where life began

Where he rose up and fleet footed he ran

To rule through woods and fields afar

Across the vast land, he followed his star

 

He was the power, he was the grace

His seed populates the great forest space

The body of a Champion, the role of a King

But to life’s spark, he can no longer cling

 

Now welcome to the Great Stag’s return

To this resting place and an endless nocturne

The great forest, forever his home

From this enchanted spot, no more shall he roam

 

Finally he falters with last bit of grace

The end of a great hearts life beating pace

He lays silent, last breath, final sound

Forever the Great Beast bends to the ground

 

Young hunter, where Great Stag now lays

Down on one knee, to his God he now prays

A death chant rings out, sent to all men

Respect for the Great Stag, a Warrior’s amen

 

 

 

Reviews

[Ted Kniffen]

Well, Dave, I could see this hunt in my mind's eye very clearly. Well written...detailed...with a feeling that this was an homage to the animal, not the hunter, although he is a major part of it.
As I read I pictured the opening sequence of 'The Last of the Mohicans' and the honour they paid to the kill.
No trophy there, it was a quest for sustenance.
A good write.

[john l smith]

thanks Ted
Yes the hunter was secondary with an homage to the Stag
That was a great film

[john l smith]

BTW R U guys as cold as we are (nanaimo)
Wasn't there a 70 car pile-up somewhere in the vicinity

[Ted Kniffen]

The temps have ranged from the 50's Fahrenheit to as low as 14 below Fahrenheit over the past month. Had a high wind storm Sunday blew all the ice east down Lake Erie, had an ice tsunami in Fort Erie. check youtube. Large car pileups happen frequently in the winter with ice storms and blowing snow.

[Onlyme]

Very detailed and graphic piece John, amazing write in general. Takes you by the hand and lets you see if from both the stag and hunters point of view.

[john l smith]

Thankyou Dawn
I hope no one is out there stalking your kitty with terminal intent

read moreThankyou Dawn
I hope no one is out there stalking your kitty with terminal intent

Dave B

[Onlyme]

He is a housecat John, I let him out He would be making kittens if he was not nautered. LOL

[Dave]

John this is stunningly beautiful! So easily I can picture in my minds eye each and every detail you portray or the hunt and the final rush of this beast to its rest. Thank you so much for sharing this with us.

Take care - Dave

[john l smith]

Thankyou Dave
I am glad you enjoyed

[emmajoy]

' In this sheltered place, where life began - Where he rose up and fleet footed he ran - To rule through woods and fields afar - Across the vast land, he followed his star .. He was the power, he was the grace - '

This poem, this writing, is one of the best i've read for ages, not only are your words laid delicately and correctly, you've felt and written about the animal as if you'd found his heart and mind, Dave. Such beautiful writing, thank you muchly for putting such thoughts into realistic yet gentle words. Was choked up by the end of it.. But we need go look at the clouds where Great Stag now resides, coming, going.

From my rear garden i can see deer wandering.. often dancing into leaps.. they are so magnificent, even those new baby flitterings.

Also, have - two miles away, a farm from which venison is sold. Avert my eyes..

[john l smith]

A well appreciated review of this segment of the circle of life.
We too live on the edge of the forest with deer occasionally walking up our front stairs across our deck and into our back yard where they assist with the pruning.
On one occasion, I had to get out of the car and lift a brand new baby, standing confused in the middle of the road, while its mother watched, over to the side, so we could pass.
thank very much again
Dave B

[emmajoy]

Was and is a beautiful piece of writing.. each stanza another glimpse of.. how it is. As to assisting with the pruning... they can wreak havoc but there are kind ways of sorting it.. and there are worse ways of having the pruning done!

[Phill Oz O'fee]

After killing an animal, Cherokee hunters would ask the gods' forgiveness for taking the animal's life. After killing a deer, the hunters would throw the tongue and some of its meat into the fire as a sacrifice. Your creative write highlights the difference between killing for sport (yuck) , as opposed to one of survival. Great share my friend... :-)

[john l smith]

It is extremely difficult to admire modern day, done for fun, hunting.
BTW I read the deer are facing more pressing problems in what is being called 'zombie deer virus' which is a contagion that attacks and eats the brain
Thanks for visit

[Chris Shaw]

You should be really proud of this narrative Dave. It is wonderfully penned, with really descriptive and lovely imagery. The ending I found really sad. I hate it when these beautiful creatures are killed. Absolutely hate anything to do with hunting. Pat on the back coming your way.

Chris

[john l smith]

thanks Chris
Please be relieved to find that no stags were either injured or even slightly inconvenienced during this production

[Chris Shaw]

So pleased to hear that :))

[Stella Armour]

Oh, this is lovely poetry, the imagery is superb and i was actually holding my breath as the the young hunter was stalking the stag.

More please and this is going in my library ...

[john l smith]

Thankyou Stella
I am very pleased you enjoyed
This is the poem I value the most

[Stella Armour]

Quite rightly so, it is a gem of a write :)

[Stella Armour]

pushing this up the feed list again so more people can read and enjoy :)

[john l smith]

thnkx............

[Stella Armour]

my pleasure ....