Deer Poems: Standing Deer - Poem by Jane Hirshfield

Deer poems from famous poets and best deer poems to feel good. Most beautiful deer poems ever written. Read all poems for deer.

Standing Deer - Poem by Jane Hirshfield

As the house of a person
in age sometimes grows cluttered
with what is
too loved or too heavy to part with,
the heart may grow cluttered.
And still the house will be emptied,
and still the heart.

As the thoughts of a person
in age sometimes grow sparer,
like a great cleanness come into a room,
the soul may grow sparer;
one sparrow song carves it completely.
And still the room is full,
and still the heart.

Empty and filled,
like the curling half-light of morning,
in which everything is still possible and so why not.

Filled and empty,
like the curling half-light of evening,
in which everything now is finished and so why not.

Beloved, what can be, what was,
will be taken from us.
I have disappointed.
I am sorry. I knew no better.

A root seeks water.
Tenderness only breaks open the earth.
This morning, out the window,
the deer stood like a blessing, then vanished.

Comments about Standing Deer by Jane Hirshfield

  • Rajnish Manga 8/27/2016 10:18:00 PM

    Lovely poem with a fine expression of life's various situations and realities unfolding a philosophy:
    Beloved, what can be, what was / will be taken from us / A root seeks water.
    Tenderness only breaks open the earth.

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • M Asim Nehal 3/7/2016 6:20:00 AM

    Outstanding poem.............................................10 Reply

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Deer Poems
  1. 1. A Wounded Deer&Mdash;Leaps Highest
    Emily Dickinson
  2. 2. The Deer Lay Down Their Bones
    Robinson Jeffers
  3. 3. The Tamed Deer
    Edmund Spenser
  4. 4. Deer Hunting Time Is Here Again
    Kathleen West
  5. 5. The White-Footed Deer
    William Cullen Bryant
  6. 6. Deer Hunt
    Judson Jerome
  7. 7. Wild Deer.
    Shams al-Din Hafiz Shirazi
  8. 8. On The Banks O' Deer Crick
    James Whitcomb Riley
  9. 9. The Deer And The Snake
    Kenneth Patchen
  10. 10. R. S. S., At Deer Island On The Merrimac
    John Greenleaf Whittier
  11. 11. Deer
    Ellis Parker Butler
  12. 12. The Laplander To His Rein-Deer
    Felicia Dorothea Hemans
  13. 13. I Ran Into Light Like A Joyful Deer
    Dr. Antony Theodore
  14. 14. Tiger And Deer
    Sayeed Abubakar
  15. 15. Deer People
    Mikael Ejdemyr
  16. 16. Defending Apples …..[ Another " Chi..
    Bri Edwards
  17. 17. Dear Deer
    Rahman Henry
  18. 18. A Deer Loses Its Life
    Gajanan Mishra
  19. 19. To My Friend Lisa Deer
    Frank Lisa IndiRa Francesca ..
  20. 20. Dongting Lake, Inscribed On The Deer Ant..
    Lu Zhi
  21. 21. O Fleeting Deer!
    Rachel Baldwin
  22. 22. With The Deer
    Daniel Brick
  23. 23. Limerick: The Trophy Deer
    Kim Barney
  24. 24. A Golden Deer Dear To Me
    Freni Karaluthara
  25. 25. The Pair Of Deer
    Muzahidul Reza
  26. 26. Roe Deer (Haiku) -Ζαρκάδι (Χαϊκού)
    Kostas Lagos
  27. 27. A Deer Hunt
    nimal dunuhinga
  28. 28. Standing Deer
    Jane Hirshfield
  29. 29. Phantom Deer.... [very Short; True; Vis..
    Bri Edwards
  30. 30. Where Will These Bewildered Deer Go?
  31. 31. Haiku 26 - The Deer In The Moon
    Parameswaran Nair Damodaran ..
  32. 32. The Herd Of Deer
    Muzahidul Reza
  33. 33. The Fallow Deer At The Lonely House
    Thomas Hardy
  34. 34. Why Deer Hunting Is Special To Me
    Roger Horsch
  35. 35. Deer Hunting
    Randy Johnson
  36. 36. Fish, Deer And Woman
    Gajanan Mishra
  37. 37. Deer In The Bush
    Edward Kofi Louis
  38. 38. Poor Deer
    Gajanan Mishra
  39. 39. Grassy Key Deer
    Barry Middleton
  40. 40. The Deer May Dance
    Hasmukh Amathalal
  41. 41. Deer In Canvas
    Nassy Fesharaki
  42. 42. Winter Deer Haiku
    Lorraine Margueritte Gasrel ..
  43. 43. Ramayan Part 28 - Mareecha Turned Golden..
    Rajaram Ramachandran
  44. 44. A Memory Of A Deer
    Russell Thornton
  45. 45. Deer Accompany Deer
    Gajanan Mishra
  46. 46. Born As A Deer
    Akham Nilabirdhwaja Singh
  47. 47. Deer In My Garden
    David McLansky
  48. 48. Death Of The Deer (Nicolae Labis)
    Paul Abucean
  49. 49. The Phantom Deer
    Dora Sigerson Shorter
  50. 50. The Red Deer Of Halls Gap
    Francis Duggan

New Deer Poems

  1. Defending Apples …..[ Another " Chi.., Bri Edwards
  2. Inconsiderate Deer, Lamar Cole
  3. The Hunt, Irene Hooks
  4. Oh Deer (The Deerware App), Molaire Jules
  5. First Kill, Doctor DJ
  6. Autumn With Tashieka, Suzae Chevalier
  7. Oddity Haunted, Clinton Siegle
  8. The Red Deer At Halls Gap, Francis Duggan
  9. Deer Crossing, Lamar Cole
  10. Trying (Couplet), Muzahidul Reza

Deer Poems

  1. The Tamed Deer

    Like as a huntsman after weary chase Seeing the game from him escaped away, Sits down to rest him in some shady place, With panting hounds beguiled of their prey: So, after long pursuit and vain assay, When I all weary had the chase forsook, The gentle deer returned the self-same way, Thinking to quench her thirst at the next brook. There she beholding me with milder look, Sought not to fly, but fearless still did bide; Till I in hand her yet half trembling took, And with her own good-will her firmly tied. Strange thing, me seemed, to see a beast so wild So goodly won, with her own will beguiled.

  2. The Deer Lay Down Their Bones

    I followed the narrow cliffside trail half way up the mountain Above the deep river-canyon. There was a little cataract crossed the path, flinging itself Over tree roots and rocks, shaking the jeweled fern-fronds, bright bubbling water Pure from the mountain, but a bad smell came up. Wondering at it I clam- bered down the steep stream Some forty feet, and found in the midst of bush-oak and laurel, Hung like a bird's nest on the precipice brink a small hidden clearing, Grass and a shallow pool. But all about there were bones Iying in the grass, clean bones and stinking bones, Antlers and bones: I understood that the place was a refuge for wounded deer; there are so many Hurt ones escape the hunters and limp away to lie hidden; here they have water for the awful thirst And peace to die in; dense green laurel and grim cliff Make sanctuary, and a sweet wind blows upward from the deep gorge.--I wish my bones were with theirs. But that's a foolish thing to confess, and a little cowardly. We know that life Is on the whole quite equally good and bad, mostly gray neutral, and can be endured To the dim end, no matter what magic of grass, water and precipice, and pain of wounds, Makes death look dear. We have been given life and have used it--not a great gift perhaps--but in honesty Should use it all. Mine's empty since my love died--Empty? The flame- haired grandchild with great blue eyes That look like hers?--What can I do for the child? I gaze at her and wonder what sort of man In the fall of the world . . . I am growing old, that is the trouble. My chil- dren and little grandchildren Will find their way, and why should I wait ten years yet, having lived sixty- seven, ten years more or less, Before I crawl out on a ledge of rock and die snapping, like a wolf Who has lost his mate?--I am bound by my own thirty-year-old decision: who drinks the wine Should take the dregs; even in the bitter lees and sediment New discovery may lie. The deer in that beautiful place lay down their bones: I must wear mine.

  3. A Wounded Deer&Mdash;Leaps Highest

    165 A Wounded Deer—leaps highest— I've heard the Hunter tell— 'Tis but the Ecstasy of death— And then the Brake is still! The Smitten Rock that gushes! The trampled Steel that springs! A Cheek is always redder Just where the Hectic stings! Mirth is the Mail of Anguish In which it Cautious Arm, Lest anybody spy the blood And "you're hurt" exclaim!

  4. Deer Hunting Time Is Here Again

    Deer hunting time is here again And many hunters take to the woods After months of planning with family and friends They gather in common brotherhood It's a freedom that fills the soul of a man With the peace of God's nature all around Lessons that have been taught since time began And lifelong memories and friendships are found Hunting is taught by tradition still yet Knowledge passed on from man to man And you'll learn things that you'll never forget And respect nature more, our wildlife, and our land So all you hunters enjoy this time May you be skilled and have lots of luck May God bless you as you hunt today And may you bag that ten point buck! ! Dedicated to my Father who enjoyed hunting with family and friends all of his life. He died of a heart attack on the opening day, while hunting with my brothers and uncles. He could not have asked for a better way to go, doing what he loved most!

  5. The White-Footed Deer

    It was a hundred years ago, When, by the woodland ways, The traveller saw the wild deer drink, Or crop the birchen sprays. Beneath a hill, whose rocky side O'erbrowed a grassy mead, And fenced a cottage from the wind, A deer was wont to feed. She only came when on the cliffs The evening moonlight lay, And no man knew the secret haunts In which she walked by day. White were her feet, her forehead showed A spot of silvery white, That seemed to glimmer like a star In autumn's hazy night. And here, when sang the whippoorwill, She cropped the sprouting leaves, And here her rustling steps were heard On still October eves. But when the broad midsummer moon Rose o'er that grassy lawn, Beside the silver-footed deer There grazed a spotted fawn. The cottage dame forbade her son To aim the rifle here; 'It were a sin,' she said, 'to harm Or fright that friendly deer. 'This spot has been my pleasant home Ten peaceful years and more; And ever, when the moonlight shines, She feeds before our door. 'The red men say that here she walked A thousand moons ago; They never raise the war-whoop here, And never twang the bow. 'I love to watch her as she feeds, And think that all is well While such a gentle creature haunts The place in which we dwell.' The youth obeyed, and sought for game In forests far away, Where, deep in silence and in moss, The ancient woodland lay. But once, in autumn's golden time, He ranged the wild in vain, Nor roused the pheasant nor the deer, And wandered home again. The crescent moon and crimson eve Shone with a mingling light; The deer, upon the grassy mead, Was feeding full in sight. He raised the rifle to his eye, And from the cliffs around A sudden echo, shrill and sharp, Gave back its deadly sound. Away into the neighbouring wood The startled creature flew, And crimson drops at morning lay Amid the glimmering dew. Next evening shone the waxing moon As sweetly as before; The deer upon the grassy mead Was seen again no more. But ere that crescent moon was old, By night the red men came, And burnt the cottage to the ground, And slew the youth and dame. Now woods have overgrown the mead, And hid the cliffs from sight; There shrieks the hovering hawk at noon, And prowls the fox at night.