The Four Deer

Bells at Hawkscry

Napping in the sun at Hawkscry,
    one of those scrumptious naps, turned on my side,
    hip pressed against the Earth,
    once in a while opening one eye
    to the wonder before me in the sun,
    -dogwood, poplar, oak, all new, all Spring!
I fall back into a timeless snooze.
At once I become aware of a rustling behind me,
    a busy-ness.  Someone is passing here!
Slowly I turn myself over, and behind the shed,
    easy, careful, stately,
    four deer step, wide-eyed, unafraid of me.
I turn, eyes wide too, to soak in this wonder.
Four deer!  in the woods, where none had been.
Three step along slowly, regarding me gently,
    and I them, as they move slowly up the mountain.
One of them, suddenly strange, leaps up and gallops ahead,
    snorting, loud, a warning:
    “She is human. Beware!  They can hurt!  They can hurt!”
And, despite all the noise, the frantic ruckus, the fleeing one,
    the three does stay, regarding me, at peace, sisters.
Just me here, lover of Gaia, full of awe.
Heedless of the panicked one, they step, graceful,
dancing with me, with our eyes,
a Sabbath of respect.




Annelinde Metzner
June 2012

My writing cabin

Hawkscry apples

Hawkscry sky

Daddy in the garden

Daddy and me in our Elmhurst backyard

The tiny garden plot, beyond the clothes lines,
‘way in the back behind our brick row house,
growing up in Queens;
that warm smile he kept just simmering,
his delight in the rows of multicolored lettuce;
the long wait for tomato’s fruiting,
pinching and shaping the plants along the way;
I was drawn to my Daddy like a magnet
and the soft earth between his hands,
both of us getting that zing of delight
as he showed me how to drop seeds in the ground 
one by one,
and cover them up with my little fingers.
We might find a fat worm!
I’d watch it expand and contract along my palm,
the worm striving for release,
me caught up in wonder.
On chubby toddler legs, I’d stand mesmerized
by the tightly-closed buds of peonies,
watching the ants, symbiotic,
traversing the globes ‘round and ‘round,
held in that open and welcoming space
of Daddy’s warm-hearted smile.

Annelinde Metzner
June 17, 2017

Admiring the beautiful vegetables in the Black Mountain Community Garden, I could suddenly hear my father's exclamations of delight, the brilliant colors, the flowers. I had to honor this aspect of our relationship for Father's Day, a mutual adoration of the Earth.

Black Mountain Community Garden veggies

Tomatoes

My son Peter with carrots!

Homage to Water

Rattler Ford

Water will flow to you, lucky blessed Human
      straight down the mountain, clear, crisp,
      almost white with coldness on a July day.
      You can drink this!
Water will flow for you, fortunate one,
      over rocks worn beautiful with the
      eternal wearing-away,
      the rush and gurgle, the pounding of water
      unending, abundant, all-powerful.
      You can bathe in this!
Water will run through your arteries and veins,
      dear blessed one,
      making all your body sacred, connected,
      healed in itself, and in each other.
      You live because of this!
Here we are, Human, on our blue-green Water Planet,
      spinning through the galaxy, evolving over eons,
      because of Water, Water!
Touch Her to your forehead, your most sacred places,
      blessed one.
Greed must not come near Her!
Never attempt to control Her!
In every blade, in every vein,
 in every rock and stone, we share Her.
Do homage to our most beautiful, singing Mother,
Water!

Annelinde Metzner
July 31, 2011

Price Lake

The Atlantic

Mountain Light Sanctuary

Delaware River, New York