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Lone Welf's Cry




Did you know that wolves mate for life?

(public domain Photo)

The Lone Wolf’s Cry

by Rose-Roberta Pauling

Was it a narcissistic enterprise

that was my endeavor

to find the you in me?

I look at you now—

your face strained

from too much others

Softened

And, I know

I know that feeling you have

half closed

inside of you longing

yet, standing in its loneness

like a wolf crying out in the wild

for it’s mate

long gone

yet, remembered

with no place in memory.

Just a seed of thought

unsprouted

whole

unjoined.

That Lone Wolf call

you recognized in me

is it a good thing?

A dream?

And is it better left in dream?

I stand alone

unseen

I touch an unentered space

and turn back

facing the entryway

facing the past

Known

Unknown

Where does it lead?

On top of this ridge I’ve chosen

I look down

Across

Out

Behind me

Openness in front of me.

Those others

who never hear the lone wolf’s cry

longing to dance in moonlight

they too are unique--

no two flowers alike

even the petals different;

Yet, the lone wolf cries.

Those who hear the lone wolf cry

they can know me

all others are my enemy.

This thread of dream

babbles in streams

of winter waters

making their way

across the rocks

where the lone wolf drinks

in sadness.

What is the sound the lone wolf hears?

The sound that others fear

crying out at the moon,

what is the sound it hears.

Tell me, do you hear it too?

Or, do you understand his cry?

In hunger

he strikes

to fill his belly

and in solitude, he cries out

at the beauty

of moon.

His sorrow so deep

he can do nothing

but howl to

the silent moon

reflecting

in his memory, the moan

of love’s song.

His last moan

trembles out

to leave this world

of hunter and hunted

for some far shore

comfortable, warm,

called Home.

©Roseroberta Pauling (11/19/06)

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