Shadows of the midnight forest
love the Wolf.
He seeks you.
His feet float on the world.
Woodland sorcerer,
heart beating exultation.
Hunting for your beauty,
to run you to the earth.
His chase is recognition
by death, of innocence.
Trees hold no meaning for him,
merely frame his search.
Fathomless, his eyes
see blood as circumstance.
Stronger than quarry,
quicker than light,
softer than shadow,
he is sure.
His children know his strength
apart from lust of teeth.
In their hearts
hearts of all the quarry live.
He continues, timeless.
He is the endless circle,
keeper of the balance,
husband of the night.
He is shapeless in his power;
all power shaped by him.
This living world compliments
seasons of the wolf.
Nurturing heat,
his jubilant breath,
warms the slowly softening snow.
From wolf-bared ground,
out of the mouth of shining fangs,
a flower is born
in April.
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to Meg - the mother of a protected pack in Washington State.
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Really nice, Larry. It truly captures the strength and beauty of the wild.
Some really powerful images here. I enjoyed this. *