Sonnet 2.IV - Deer Up Close

A Spenserian rhyme-scheme sonnet, focusing on my interactions with deer.

Feeding a buck at Yellow River Wildlife Santuary

On water-tower hill, I sat on bales
      of hay, in evenings, at sun’s setting.
      That’s when I started to see your details.
      You were majestic, beautiful, grazing
slowly in grass below me, amazing 
      me with your muscled, slender frame beneath
      coarse, tree-bark colored fur. The sun, blazing
      behind you, made you seem larger than life.
Our encounters were short in the wild.
      If I walked up too close, you would flee.
      I wanted friendship, but you were divine.
      And then I met you in the Sanctuary.
Captive, I could see your weakness, your need.
      I could see that you weren’t so unlike me. 

When I was in my late teenage years, trying to figure out what to do with my life after high school, I used to walk to the top of a hill behind my neighborhood, in the evenings, around the time of sunset. At the top of the hill was an aqua-colored water tower. (It was more the shape of a silo than a tower.) Also, there on top, were giant roll-bales of hay, and a view overlooking a couple of small farm fields that extended to the two-lane highway below. I used to climb on top of a hay bale and cry out to God - with the little faith I had - to help me figure out what to do with my life. As I sat on that hay bale, white-tailed deer would cross in front of me. That’s where and when my admiration of deer began, and ultimately, where and when I really began to come to faith in Christ for myself. The deer, and my encounters with them, for me, have been a metaphor for my relationship with Christ.

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