under the tree and away from the city; beneath the moon but
far from the sea. salt is in the air. grass
circles around the bare earth where the deer wait and have left the bones of
the tree roots exposed to the night. here is where the deer wait to become
human. the tree is magic but only because it is an integral part of the whole
scene. you can see clouds of air from the deer's nostrils. it's that cool out
this evening when they're trying to be human and their breath is that warm.
there is no music in the tree because it is winter and the leaves are in
another reality not even dreaming of their unfurling. winter's brief gusts of
winds have a sound. they feel lonely.
why is it that deer would want to be human? only they know. only the human that imagined
this story knows.
when we have so much trouble being the best of what human
has been storied; why wish that upon an animal that can come and go in silence
and know the intimacies of winter, difficult and not, that brace their sides
and frost their snouts.
so much of our time together as family members or friends;
as extended family or in-laws or outlaws, those of us not legally in-laws; or
as people we know through work or from the stores we shop at, so much of our
time together is about the experience of becoming human. each encounter a way
to open up more of ourselves to this experience that in the story of the deer
is something to be desired.
my friend brian died recently. for him, his leaving was a
part of his experience that he believed will bring him close to his ancestors.
he is on a journey. his human qualities still to unfold after leaving this
life.
in this life or the next maybe we are like the deer waiting
under the tree. it is the night that transforms them if they wait under the
tree in the moonlight with winter near and the wind quietly passing through.
