For Joci and Karim, with love…which is the same as healing.
Shiva, pretend you are with me
as the doe in her summer red coat
through the pines
and enters the pasture.
She neither hurries nor hesitates.
She knows exactly how carefully it must be done.
Shiva, I know the odds.
If the fawn is where she left it, the world
in that moment goes on being created.
And if the fawn has vanished, it is the destroyer’s hour.
Lord of Life and Death,
I just wanted you to stand here for a moment
not like a god but like a mortal being
to see for yourself how the doe
into the grass
and when she emerges how the heart leaps joyful
if the world steps out beside her. That little dancer
Mary Oliver, from her book, Blue Horses. Penguin Press, 2014