You come to me on misty mornings,
On days I have a troubled mind.
And though you are invisible to others.
To me you are not hard to find.
On windswept edges of the wild wood.
In reverent majesty,
there you stood.
The elusive white stag, magnificent.
You seem to read into my angst,
eyes wide in understanding, head bent.
I step forward you do not flee.
Instead you somehow comfort me.
Something that I can’t explain
transcends from you into my brain,
and peace and calm is all I feel.
I touch your nose that’s oh so real.
Your breath is warm against my hand.
A shared tranquility where we both stand.
I bow in honour of your grace
and catch a parting look at your face.
I feel so cleansed and understood,
you turn tail back to the wild wood.
I feel refreshed and whole again.
Blessed by your sweet refrain.
This mystical realm… so sublime.
I travel home through mists of time.
©️Susan Mycock 2026
Mar 1
Mar 1, 2026 at 12:21 PM UTC
You come to me on misty mornings,
On days I have a troubled mind.
And though you are invisible to others.
To me you are not hard to find.
On windswept edges of the wild wood.
In reverent majesty,
there you stood.
The elusive white stag, magnificent.
You seem to read into my angst,
eyes wide in understanding, head bent.
I step forward you do not flee.
Instead you somehow comfort me.
Something that I can’t explain
transcends from you into my brain,
and peace and calm is all I feel.
I touch your nose that’s oh so real.
Your breath is warm against my hand.
A shared tranquility where we both stand.
I bow in honour of your grace
and catch a parting look at your face.
I feel so cleansed and understood,
you turn tail back to the wild wood.
I feel refreshed and whole again.
Blessed by your sweet refrain.
This mystical realm… so sublime.
I travel home through mists of time.
©️Susan Mycock 2026
