Uncovering

 

Do you see the antler?

There, among the brush and crusted snow

extends a single tine,

like a nunatak —

hinting at what lies beneath.

 

As you dig and pull and heft,

imagine the stony press of it,

the bloody weighty itch of new bone

scraped and ribboned,

bourne into tool

and rut

and weapon,

wielded as

status

and madness

and moose.

It’s a dramatic tale.

 

Suppose there is another story —

of moose, adorned,

creating tine by tine,

moving among trees,

mouth working,

body receiving.

Then, a pause,

one shake,

release.

Without a thought, it moves on.

 

As the frost falls away,

can you see the antler

emerge?

— as more than just narrative, or

bony fact,

but the freedom

held always in your hands.

None of us are story

or bone

or burden.

We are the witness

and the release,

that clear space where

belief

meets

truth.

 

Uncovered,

you are freedom itself.