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March 8, 2013
Gray wolf. Français : Loup. Nederlands: Wolf T...

Gray wolf. Français : Loup. Nederlands: Wolf Türkçe: Kurt (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Before crossing,

I met the wolf.Image

First I saw only her playful movements

and then as she slowed to see me

I recognized her face-

serenity in her hunger

grace in the way she turned her head.

Somehow, we had never met before today.

Our eyes embraced and in that touch

she bound me from this moment to eternity.

We crossed together,

tore open the web

which breathed like quivering Moon:

firelight in the dew

and a fearless wind.

Quartz towers blossomed up

from the ferns and moss.

Frozen trees let loose a mist of frozen leaves.

One landed at the center of my forehead-

One landed at the triangle where legs meet torso.

They became eyes and ears,

turned inward where the blood

is a river’s voice and

the muscle opens, tenses, eases, pulses, closes

in a ceaseless recital of reactions:

Obeying who, obeying what?

As the leaf becomes my skin and

my skin becomes the leaf.

It is the wolf who warms the boundaries

of my flesh so they melt into earth.

It is the wolf who licks a spiral into the

base of my spine and sews me with her teeth

to the root of a cottonwood tree.

It is the wolf who opens a pool in my womb

to receive the voluptuous waters of every sea.

It is the wolf who releases dense fires in my belly

which swell and ascend in the limitless realms

of primal desire to consume

the bars of every creature’s cage.

It is the wolf who rests her cheek on my chest and weeps a lacy golden frost.

She cleans my throat with her tongue

and my mouth shimmers blue with heat.


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