Wednesday, April 8, 2015

A little poem for a fawn

On March 25th, just before breakfast, we noticed a young deer behind our house.  As I looked at it, curled up on the snow and constantly bobbing its head, I knew something was not right.  I knew he was hurting.  Just a few nights prior, I had seen it walk up the street with its mother, tagging close behind her.  Now there he was, alone and hurting.

I quickly grabbed a few carrots, an apple and an old blanket and made my way over to see him.  I approached gently, slowly, expecting him to run away at my approach.  He did stand up, but could not stand on its front legs and quickly lied back on the snow.  I covered him with the blanket and offered him the food, which he sniffed but declined.  I believe his level of pain was such that he could not open his mouth.  Fur was missing on both sides of his chest, and there were wounds.  I'm sure the internal wounds were worse.

I left him for a few moments to place a phone call with the Provincial Police and Natural Resources department.  They arrived within 20 minutes, during which time I returned to the deer to share some Reiki with the intention of reducing its pain.  I was not surprised at the best course of action the police needed to do; I said a final farewell, gathered my blankets and food offerings, and returned home.  A single gunshot resonated through the neighbourhood.  10 minutes later, the county was here to pick up the deer's body.

It feels like much happened within 45 minutes that morning.  The neighbours and I have been shaken from this experience.  It is not often that death is at our doorstep.  We truly are blessed and privileged to be living in such a wonderful town.




My dreams have been filled with the memory and energy of the deer in the few nights following this experience.  It has been an interesting moon cycle to say the least.  I do believe there is more going on "behind the veil" that I do not fully understand, and that the deer had a role to play.  It is just too curious that he made his way, possibly on his own, through wooded lots and fenced in yards to finally fall just behind my house.

I wanted this free-form poem to capture the essence of this experience.


Blood on the Snow

Little fawn
Life beginning
Beauty, majesty, innocence

Head bobbing
Curled up
Fighting to live
Heroic, brave, abandoned

Little fawn,
How did you find this tree, this backyard,
How did you make it so far through the snowy paths of the village?
What is the story of your journey?

Your body was deeply wounded
But your spirit was strong
You nestled your forehead under my Reiki hands
And you surrendered

Little fawn,
I wish I could have done more
I wish I could have saved your body
And returned you to health
…all I could do was call for help

And now there is blood on the snow.

Your spirit remains strong
And it trots alongside Brigid.
The sacrifice of your life
Forming a bridge between dimensions
Like a blood covenant
Of the days of old.

Spiritual crossings and awakenings
Goddess’ consort
Spirit Guide

Finding peace, compassion, meaning
New beginnings
Little fawn of spring