I Am The Hungry Hunter

I Am The Hungry Hunter
© Surazeus
2019 01 29

While sitting on ledge of the mountain slope,
gazing through mist at the vast sunlit world,
I feel tense energy inside my body
vibrate with desire to progress forward
through scattered flash of expression to fly
all over the landscape of grass-cracked rocks.

Yet I retain perception of desire
beaming outward from pulsing of my head,
contained inside tense stillness of strict goal
to wait with bated breath, invisible
through wind of hope, that binds my energy
for when the deer emerges from dark woods.

I discipline my soul to shimmer tight
inside taut skin of purpose to maintain
still silence of strict patient steadiness
so when the deer appears I can raise bow
and shoot sharp arrow straight into its heart,
then I will roast its flesh sizzling on flames.

Alone on mountain slope of flowing wind,
I hang in stillness of swift-swirling time
to gaze entranced at beauty of the world,
so perfect in vast bulkiness of soil
that points sharp peaks at unreachable sky
where glowing clouds watch me with silent eyes.

Except for hunger gnawing at my heart,
which separates my body from wet slope,
I feel my spirit linked through harmony
of strict conceptual passion to this world
of gusting winds and beams of light on rocks,
till even my name vanishes in mist.

So when plump spotted deer from dark woods treads,
and wanders near enough for me to shoot,
I wait long timeless moment of sharp peace
to admire its elegant grace of motion,
forgetting that I am the hungry hunter,
but then I shoot, and claim nutritious prize.

Beside its panting form I kneel in mist,
two creatures on vast mountain bulk of time,
and touch its head with gentle hand of hope
to gaze forever in its flashing eyes
till animating spirit of its mind
vanishes in light, like I will someday.

Bearing plump deer to my home garden hearth,
I smile with joy when my family appears,
watch while they roast it well over hot flames,
and savor pleasure of people I love
when we feast in moonlight on roasted meat,
then I wear its skin and become the deer.

While my son beats drum made of taut deer skin,
and my wife chants heart-haunting melodies,
I wear the head of the deer on my head
and dance around hot fire under bright stars
to become the deer who leaps in the sky,
and give my soul to feed the hungry hunter.

I gallop far across the star-lit world
and race into vast labyrinth of lost souls
where spirits of the dead who still have names
swirl around my body in flowing wind,
then I sing, we are all formed from sunlight
for we are children of one dreaming Earth.