Poem Of The Week: FAWN

FAWN

You have to stretch out as wide
as your body can spread until
you become your surroundings, 
until the pulse of nature becomes
the music of your soul, 
until you can no longer resist
the need to run into the 
woods and listen carefully to
the hammering heartbeat of
each tree and its reverberating
songs of solitude and
broken wings.
There is nothing crueller
than the ancestral curse of 
their roots, the eternal home 
they cannot leave behind, and 
the bodily sacrifice they must
immolate at the altar of
sedentary resilience.
There is nothing kinder
than the audacious walls that
they build for themselves,
sheltering their tender heart from 
the hungry creatures looking
for something gentle enough
to ignite for the warmth 
of their guts.
They selflessly carry the 
heavens on their shoulders 
to make the journey 
less burdensome for all the 
roamers who, as a sign of
gratitude, listen to the 
old storytellers’ nostalgic tales 
of when the woods 
were tied with 
Oneness.

Erin Rizzato Devlin is an independent writer from Glasgow you can read more on her website