Wednesday, November 5, 2014

The Night Belongs To The Wolf

Some nights

Most nights

The wolf needs no sleep

For the night belongs to the wolf

You see, she sees

Her reflection cast in the dark water waving below

As it laps the shoreline with subtle soft brushes

Touching her hands and feet in the wet sands of time

All while she crouches near the dark lake of life

The wolf’s gaze catches the moon so full

So big in the midnight sky

As it sparkles atop each ripple of water

It shows like diamonds in her dark eyes

For the night belongs to the wolf

You see, she moves

Like the fox in the first fog of morning

Then like the coyote in the sun cast shadows of the city

The large stone towers of Toronto she calls home

But the power of the wolf is saved for the night

When the darkness is blinded by moonlight

When the stars punch holes in the sky

When green candles flicker

With whispers of well wishes from the wolf

When the cards are read and the wine is sipped  

The night belongs to the wolf

This poem is from my book : Petals Falling

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