Weary Wolf Woman

[image from google hsepb.com]

There is a weary old
grizzled wolf-woman
come to live in my heart.
She wishes to speak:

"It has been such
a long hard journey
to reach this peaceful cave
where I can rest.

For years, I was hunted,
brought down many times,
till I managed to flee.

Once a forest burned
around me
and, in the cold times,
I slept in snow burrows
and felt the ice
and the hunger
to my very soul.

I have been wounded,
and healed,
even trapped, for a time.
Oh, how I railed
and flailed
against the bars
of that cage,
how I howled
for release.

When I escaped,
I pointed my nose
firmly
towards freedom.
After that, I always
traveled alone.
It was safer that way,
save for the years
my black son
padded beside me,
till it was time
for him
to take
the wolf path
away from
my side.

I cannot travel
far, now,
and I long for the
wild places,
the ocean's roar,
the forests 
of the wilderness
that sing through
my soul.


Now captive
in my body,
and restricted
by the end times,
I look out
through your eyes
upon
my vanishing
world."

As I sit on
my porch swing,
Wolf-Woman
is sitting here, too.
We rock
silently
and survey
the gray skies
of today.
We remember
the forest trails
that
we loved
to wander,
wild beaches
that stretched to
Forever
where we
companioned
the tides.

We accept
our weary
end of the trail
limitations.

But sometimes,
when the
moon is right,
you can listen
for our howls.