WOLF
The trees whisper, and the birds sing,
And bring to your heart, all beautiful things.
The sound of the brook, bubbling its way past,
Gives you the hope, life is good, and will last.
The passion and glory, of nature it calls you,
The song in your soul rings honest and true.
I see in the firelight, eyes of wolves in the night,
Looking upon me, with eyes near to fright.
Nature's masters, they circle, uncertain of fate,
I tune in my eyes, watching closely of late.
These creatures they circle, movement liquid motion,
My heart starts to quicken, no thought, no notion.
The fire it holds them, completely at bay,
And night swallows them up, as they slink away.
I come to my senses, as night hides their trail,
That try as I might, I might never fail.
The wolves they are gone now, were they there at all,
Perhaps it was nature, sending me her anonymous call.
I think that's the case, yes truly fairly certain,
My life to this point, nothing more than a curtain.
I stand from the ground, eyes cast to the sky,
I kick out the fire, and raise my voice high.
I call to the forest, the creatures around me,
And strip myself down, as God said I should be.
Leaping to the trees, I look back not again,
Cloth lying on the ground, artificial skin.
As I bound through the forest, heart fairly pounding,
My cry to the night, in the trees resounding.
A.H.B.
1998
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