Tensile Grace

Upon this monumental door, a sense of gratitude came before my eyes If stabbed by paths of fear and wrath, new trust came pouring down For behind the glittering forest, and a pomegrante stained sky Enhancing was this quiet hour, in dwindling crimson crowned There, in tensile grace, our meeting came a twofold surprise Lightly splashed in backlight, where the tender grass had grown Quietly grazing with grace, at first unaware of eyes This thing of beauty revealed for my gladness alone Suddenly the white tailed doe sensed me watching her She perked up ears, alert to my presence, yet did not flee Dare I even break the silence with a whispered word? Or take a step per chance my foot might rustle twig or leaf? This battle of wills...intense, a fleeting chance in time Making no move...each of us transfixed, unable to breathe Nor break this entrancing spell as her eyes met mine Moments transpired...only sound of scarcely whistling breeze Eyes like windows, of which the glass is tongue She spoke to me, in hypnotic spell, I felt myself release Our spirits crossed against the sky, beneath the copper trees As if laced, were we, where spirits dwell, in universal peace . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . By Carrie Richards, for Kristen Bruni's contest "What Animal Would I Be?"