The Wolf.

I've been feeling in a funk lately, and I think I realize why. I'm finely balanced between two things: the generous, the old, the bright soul that is firmly connected to the other, and my wolf. It came to me today, and within ten minutes I heard the words in my head, wrote them down, and feel more at peace then I have in awhile.

The Wolf.

In a world of sheep and weak things

I walk around feeling a powerful sense of being.

Sahara between my toes

Moss in my snout

I’ll enjoy your blood as I swallow your entrails down.

I’m a wolf in a world of sheep

I eat them when I’m hungry

Pass unbeknownst in their flock when I’m sated.

I’ve always been a predator, and the wise ones have always seen it:

Respected it, feared it, encouraged it to thrive.

The knowledge that the biggest and scariest are the ones

That will inherit the earth, because the meek were meals.

I laughed at the carpenter’s son when he said to turn the other cheek;

I’d bite that hand off and hold your heart in my hand before

My head had time to snap back from the blow.

I lead them to slaughter when their time has come

And they follow timidly and oh so docile

Offering themselves to me without realizing their folly.

Offer yourself to me and I’ll take advantage.

I won’t let a meal walk away. Mercy and grace are not inside of me.

I’ll survive, on your meat or that of your neighbor;

It makes no difference to me.

Be wise dear heart, and see me for what I am;

You might live longer.

What a great feeling, this wholeness.