The Wolf Moon - must be the reason
for these feelings
of being lost
and oh so alone.
I feel the pull of lives
lived long ago,
the simple freedom
of those wondrous times
when the main Purpose
was to survive
and serve the Great Mother. . .
I feel the call
of the lush green forests,
the pleasure of
laying in the shadows listening
to the river's soulful voice
hidden from the danger
but free to see all,
from around me on the ground
to high above the tallest of
Her guarding trees . . .
I feel the touch of the night-wind,
her soft caress on my ruff,
whispering past my ears
as I lumber across the vast plains
under a sky full of lights
and promises
of an unburdened journey.
The Wolf Moon -
I still possess
the innate sensualness,
the deep ingrained belief
of pure and complete love
of heart and soul
that She taught us as pups . . .
I have acquired
however unfortunate
the quiet desperation
of not being able to express
those inbred qualities,
the lonliness of
hearing Her call
and not being allowed
to answer,
the terrible frustration of
having to swallow the cry . . .
Written by Kate Lickey (ThunderWolf)
Copyright © Jan. 13, 1990 to present
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