The Hunter

The light shone through forest fair,
Off the tree tops and wolf’s lair,
Green and gold that scintillate,
Off dew drop leaves, that morning late.

His hoof abound, in reckless way
He plays hither, through night and day,
Follows a trail of green tall grass,
His mother warns, Not too fast!

He nips a plant in morning cheer,
Joyous he, young brave deer.
For beauteous maiden he must persuade
To be his eternal bride and maid.

He stops by a tall thick shrub,
With flora scattered, stub by stub
Flowers colored by pink, a shade
Beauteous bush for beauteous maid!

Joyous he, young brave dear,
World is his, no one to fear,
For the lion, he sleeps in pride so far,
No trouble from him, great morning star!

He calls for maiden, he calls her forth
To beauteous bush far up north,
For she must behold his wondrous find,
And swoon, as he begs her to be most kind,

To grant him his greatest wish,
To be his mate and lover, to squish,
The berry fruit, to seal the pact
And bear his fawns, so he must soon act.

She approaches from far, slow and smiles
Her radiance to behold, for miles and miles,
She trots up now, slow as song
But just then, something went utterly wrong.

A crack in the wind, nay, just passing thunder!
His mate fell to grass asunder!
A crack again to his near right,
That hit the bark, no one in sight!

Fearful deer, brave was he,
Rushed to his maid, his bride-to-be,
She breathed no more, cracked her head,
He wailed in horror, for she was dead.

A crack again, ahead of him
His vision blurred, and began to swim
He ran away into bush to hide,
And watched his maid being dragged aside

Humans they were, armed with pointy-black things
Cracked fear into forest, and springs,
They took out a knife, and began to skin
While poor deer watched, horror within

He mourned and he prayed,
And called to me,
But I had seen what I needed to see.

I swept up a wind, a gust so strong,
That the human’s cap was off before long.,
The trees cracked, and began to whir,
With anger anew, as their soul began to stir,

I called for lightning, and violent storm,
That kissed the human, through meat and bone,
And called for the mighty sky
To open up, no human must hide

Terrified, they dropped off and ran,
An outstretched root, tripped careless man
Who fell to the floor, frightened for life,
Oblivious still, to grief and strife

That young deer faced, by the maid’s side.
Man pleads to me, nowhere to hide.
I roar again, through mighty thunder,
Why must tear poor deer asunder.

I say this to you, you arrogant men
Never ever return again.
For Nature I am, and proud to be
The balance shall keep, proportionately

For if you return, I swear upon my Name,
Things will never remain the same
Must more deer die for no reason,
For hopeless cause, you call hunting season?

Begone, man, return never more
I curse you fight amongst your kin and lore.
Leave us to stay in peace, as should.
Spake I, the Soldier of the Wood.

Ranjan Ananthraman

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