Tawiyela: The Deer Woman

Tawiyela

A red skinned woman lies in the freshly fallen snow on the side of the road. Kneeling beside her, I brush the icy crystals from her cheek; she is alive. I gather her into my arms and carry her to my cabin.

Watery footprints follow me across the den to the sofa where I lay her. I cover the woman with a wool blanket and turn to the stone hearth. Stirring the smoldering embers, I rekindle the fire.

The woman wakes. Are you okay? She remains silent. Her eyes are like a doe, both scared and innocent. As she stares as me in silence, I drown in those eyes.

She drops her bare feet to the floor and walks to the window. Staring out into the night, she whispers in a foreign dialect and drops her head. I walk over to her and regard the winter storm brewing outside. Will you stay? The woman’s doe eyes meet mine; she smiles at me. I think this means yes.

The woman comes to me during the night. She slips into the bed and I surrender to her touch. Her lovemaking is fervent, her hunger insatiable. In the throws of our coitus she moans in her strange tongue. I understand her not, but our bodies speak the same language.

Sunlight pours into the room and I wake-alone. I find the woman outside, standing in the snow. She stares intently into the forest. I join the woman and beckon for her to come inside. She shakes her head and begins to walk towards the woods. I grab her hand, Please, don’t go. She presses her lips against mine one last time, then turns and flees.

I run after her, but the woman seems to fly across the snow and I cannot match her pace. I continue to follow her trail of footprints, but when I turn my gaze downward, I see that they are deer tracks. I look up again and see the white tail of a fleeing deer, but the doe stops. She turns to look at me. I know those eyes.

Then, Tawiyela, the deer woman, disappears into the depths of the forest.

For the Seeker

Dear Seeker,

If you have stumbled across this blog in your search for 'truth' i suggest you look to the writings of Edward Traversa .

Namaste

Ashtavakra Gita: 2.18

Ashtavakra Gita

2.18
I am neither free nor bound.
The illusion of such things
has fallen into disbelief.

Lucidity: A Poem

Lucidity
1-Oct-2009

Flashing lights

Red and blue

Pink and green

Illuminate

A garden

Where the fireflies dance

and sweet-peas sleep

Abiding in awareness

Neither free nor bound

Staring out my crystal window

I long to join them

Staring at the ceiling

The image begins to fade