Mother Deerest

My baby was stolen in the late afternoon of a wet spring day
as we grazed the forest in peace with no worry in our minds.
I had warned her of the greedy beast who stalked our home,
but it was our season to flourish and enjoy the sprouting flowers
and the frost melting to reveal plenty of pockets of chilly moss. 

She was dragged away into the woods bleating and terrified,
and the sun crept across the sky illuminating the covering canopy.
She pleaded for me, to run and save her from the merciless monster. 
Her cries grew further with each parting breath, I could not move;
my legs trembled like when my baby was born, a month ago from today.

Another boom rippled through the wilderness, but I shrieked to hear a
wavering call in reply, and suddenly my legs started to run in search.
I called again, frantically chasing the sound of my baby through the 
wilderness and I found her beside the creature disguised as the trees.
Her pelt painted red from her wounds, she struggled to gain her strength.

My legs kneeled for me, coddling my frightened baby in an effort to
soothe her anguish for these last fleeting moments of her short time.
I told her to rest, as she would be with her father and her sister and
finally, she became silent, and only howling from the wind was heard. 
I remained there until the sky glowed a deep gold, positioning her 

frail body comfortably before I left for the head of the corrie.
I arrive by nightfall, the sharp breeze bringing more tears to my eyes
as I observe the white waters raging in the river far beneath me. 
I turn to the constellations as I step toward my beckoning family.
I am coming, my spring fawn, to sleep beside you amongst the stars tonight.