[image from ipzircon.deviantart.com]
is breaking across
the horizon.
A raven's
gobble-cry
wakes her.
Wild Woman stirs
in her fur robe,
comes out
of her cave
and surveys
the morning.
It is the end
of the Hungry season,
the season in which
her wolf companion
died.
His pelt she keeps
wrapped around her,
for comfort.
Even gone, he is
still helping her
to survive.
The days are growing
longer, now.
In the evenings,
her heart leaps
at the extra hour of light
added to the day.
When she sits by
her campfire,
the sparks floating up
as darkness falls,
she plans for tomorrow's hunt:
certain leaves, morels,
and rosehips,
anything to fill the ache
of a too-long winter.
Soon the babies
will begin
to clamber about:
cougar and wolf,
bear and fawn.
Bald baby eagles
will appear in the nest
above her sitting place.
She takes heart
and hopefulness
from the turning
of the seasons.
The time ahead
will be easier,
because of
all the light.
Sad but beautiful
ReplyDeleteHis spirit lives on in
The call of the wild
And your wonderful memories
Such a beautiful view you have painted
It is amazing how so many of us are uplifted with the arrival of new warmth out of winters icy grip.
ReplyDeleteThis is lovely writing Sherry.
This has a nice sort of mythology feel about it. I love the image of the babies clambering about.
ReplyDeleteA lovely flow of words Sherry. A tale of hope.
ReplyDeleteSo special...
ReplyDeleteHis pelt she keeps
wrapped around her,
for comfort.
Even gone, he is
still helping her
to survive.
"a too-long winter" - my sentiments exactly, but oh that extra hour of light... such a lovely poem, Sherry, full of longing, achingly beautiful
ReplyDeleteI love that pelt and too long a winter and specially all the light, making it easier for her. Lovely write ~
ReplyDeleteYes, Sherry...light makes everything easier. Even loss seems to bow before light. Blessings to you as you welcome spring and light into your world.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful, almost a meditative feel, to this. Quite lovely.
ReplyDeleteI usually see this light. That is why I'm the tired monk and not just monk.
ReplyDeleteYour connection to nature and the cycles of life are punctuated in this piece, Sherry. I am currently on a quest to live in greater harmony with these cycles, so this speaks volumes to me.
ReplyDeleteYou say hope, as it is wished. Thank you for the beautiful poem! One of my favorites.
ReplyDeleteyou top this hard reality off with a burst of light in the end. the theme of life goes on is one of the most ancient, and powerful. love your stuff.
ReplyDeleteVery unique and clever poem. Just lovely.
ReplyDeleteThe light of creation is indeed an inspiring beacon, well captured.
ReplyDeleteI can hear so much of you in this one, you Wild Woman! The turning of the seasons does, indeed, bring hope but also a longing for those missing from our lives.
ReplyDelete