The Fateful Path Poem by Barbara Jane Morris

What awe-filled delight I felt one day,
While walking through the woods,
To come upon a "Path" half covered with decay! It seemed a "Path" that had a place in mind,
And yet, with every forward step I took,
It grew more difficult to find. Then suddenly the birds were still and three
Exploding shots rang out! A breathless doe
Slid down the hill into a tree in front of me. The dying doe lay on her side when, over the crest,
Her little fawn came running. It placed its hoof,
So very gently, on its mother's heaving chest. Atop the hill the relatives of the fawn bereft,
Stood silently in grief. After all life ceased,
The little fawn and herd, so slowly, left. This tearful tale should never teach us hate,
But remind us that all living creatures
Have a "Path" to walk and a meeting place with fate.