A deer with two strong antlers that lead before its eyes, seeing with distance and never close enough to touch with its own fur. Headstrong, chosen not from strength, but fear. What is soft enough to feel its true skin is not worthy of hatred, yet too close for friendship. It runs free from the challenges of wilderness, into roads, and through forest trails. When the night comes, it remembers the mellow colors of the night. The dark blues and gray sky rest the antlers from defense and the eyes take control. What can the antlers see of the beauty of the moon, it asks itself. Nothing, for the shine of the crescent over this world, can only be seen through the two eyes so little used. And as they look to the sky, the wonder of the day leaves from the comfort of the night’s beauty. Its hooves relax and it walks down the rough gravel roads, unaware of its placement in the world it must share.
The moon and
the stars yell for it to admire them another day, in a different place. The
moon yells the loudest, knowing he will not be the most beautiful in yet
another creature’s heart. Loud grumbling nears the deer’s slow steps, and he
turns to the sound of a halting screech. His eyes forget the gray shine
that lit the sky so dimly, for the white of bliss meets him. The world is still,
loud honking drowning in the embrace of the most encapsulating light to exist. Every
sense had forgotten its purpose, but the stars knew their duty. As the moon
turned in shame, they whispered into the deer’s ear.
“This light is
beautiful now, but it controls. Does the moon halt you in your tracks, mocking
the strength of your body’s choice? A soft beauty that is admirable is better
than a strong one that is hypnotizing.”
The deer’s ego becomes bruised, and it walks off into the forest,
wondering how it let an object control its movement. His antlers will forever
lead after this day, but his eyes will not forget the bliss of the night. They will never lose hope that they will once again be showered in immediate bliss rather than constant mediocrity.
Comments
Post a Comment