The shadows part within the glade as he peers out,
a Stag with golden hoof and horn.
Poised and still the wind moves the trees,
Sita slowly rises from her knees.

She sees the flashing hooves of gold, she sees the horn -
She wants to touch his rising flank,
feel his corded neck, beneath her thighs,
Stare into his strangely human eyes..

Sita's lightly fallen feet stir no leaves,
upon the swall of verdant green.
But he heard - the Stag bounds away,
the woman is longing for him to stay...

Summer afternoons move to Fall...
Was I ever young at all?
The memories of a life - now past,
Do not seem to last...

Ramayana...

And as the sad, sweet wind blows through the thicket,
Sita cries out to her lover, "Bring me the stag with the golden horns!"
And so does Prince Rama set out, stringing the magic bow, Saranga -
in search of the Stag...