This, my first poem, is dedicated to my dear sister.


Snow-white stag bounding through dense, dark forest.
Bright flashes of sunlight gleam from the snow white stag.
Hunter creeping through the dark woods does not go unnoticed.
Forest animals grow quiet and still as the hunter brings his bow.
They shelter their young ones, cowering in the shadows, hiding.
The hunter places an arrow on the string of the dark, black bow.
He pulls back on the string, aiming, birds take to the sky, screaming.
The hunter releases the arrow, sending it flying to seek its prey.
A crimson spot wells red with blood, on the coat of the snow white stag.
The stag falls, struggling to get up as its life flows in crimson rivers
away.
The snow white coat is stained with the bright red blood of the stag.
The hunter stands triumphant, smiling as he approaches his prey.
The stags bloodied body lies limp on the forest floor.
The hunter steps up to the stag, the broad smile on his face falls.
He sees the beauty and grace that flows from the stag even on deaths
door.
He drops to his knees, hands in his hair, bent double in sorrow.
For the stag is not a stag but a woman, clad in a flowing white dress.





Penned by my hand on the 18th of Mayan, in the year 478 AF.