After three days of sitting
hard by the window
following grief through
the breath

like a hunter
who has tracker for days
the blood spots
of his injured prey

I came to the lake
where the deer had run
exhausted

refusing to save
its life in the
dark water

and there it fell
to ground
in our mutual
and respectful quiet

pierced
by
the pale diamond
edge of the breath’s
listening
presence.

~ David Whyte
Fire in the Earth