The ancient woman, the dusty crone
Gathered up your broken bones
And sang a song around them ’til
They took new shape, spaces filled
And so you rose and took new breath
Refreshed from your cold, winter rest
With the seeds deep in the Earth
You celebrate your own rebirth
The ice melts with each passing day
You are still a child, go out and play.

Hooved prints deep in the snow
The antlers twist and curl and spread
The creature looks you in the eye
With heavy crown upon it’s head.
His gaze is piercing, cutting deep
It opens you from mind to heart.
You feel the world, and so you weep
Your tears cast sparkles in the dark.
Your exiled home within the deep
Your frozen refuge, forest home
Has kept you well, but now you creep
Out into a great unknown.
You have his solemn, sturdy grace
You stand so tall and turn around
Your stride leaves footprints much like his
Treasure glowing in the ground.
Your throat wells up with songs to sing
Your voice is carried on ahead
You follow your own echoes ’til
You lead yourself back home again.
From seen above, your prints and his
Swirl and reach around the world
And if you were to trace the path
It would look like antlers curled.