High on the white-peaked horizon
Antlers encircling the misted moon
Dark king of winter and the night
The elk stands alone
In the emptiness
Of the unknown
Between time that has gone
And time that’s yet to be.
Within his soul, gleams the vision
Of the mystical one
Who glides over glades of stars and through the sky-gate
On clear warm arctic nights
The one whose breath is the falling snow
Whose shining head is the moon
Whose eyes are the fire within the northern lights
The one whose magic hooves slip silently unseen
Time’s call and chiming echo.
The elk stands alone.
And within his eyes the bright
Shadow of eternity
Sheds peace. And all the while the fir trees wait
Silver and still, in the darkness.
Written around 1995
Photo: MIWS 16 / Dreamstime.com / Elk in the Rocky Mountains National Park