Golden Gaze

Gazing at an open field
Snow covered
Copse of birch in the distance
The moon smiles down
Form familiar
Power unmistakable
As always, seeing more than letting on
Old friend refracted in the flakes
Diamonds beyond count
Magic in the night

A wolf howls in the distance, calling
My skin prickles in anticipation
The night seems brighter
The snow inviting
The howl echoes yet
I close my eyes

Primal urge
I feel a shift
Trees fly past
Rabbits scatter, deer bound away
Fear palpable, a taste in the air
No kill tonight
There is a oneness
Conjoined energies
Family force

The wolf calls yet again
Muzzle raised, howl returned
Excitment, thirst, desire
Flowing as liquid
Distance means nothing
Time does not exist
Run, steady, silent

A scent captured
Musk, sharp, familiar
Trail blazed ahead
Memories triggered
Home
Sharing
Duties
Death
Life

Golden gaze reflected
Meaning without words
We are one
There can be no return
What once was, is no more


With winter approaching I always look forward to hearing the wolves howling in the evening. We heat with wood so I often am outside around that time chopping or just bringing in wood. I always feel drawn by the howl, the clear cold night air carries the sound well, the glittering snow in the moonlight sets the atmosphere. A bit of magic happens right then. Somehow I feel it stirring my soul in a basic and primal way that cannot be duplicated by any human interaction.

If I close my eyes, for just a moment while the echoes of the call fade, I am the wolf. I sometimes wonder what might happen if I followed my instinct at that moment.

Jeff.