© Gloria Smith 2010
In the wee little hours of the night
The fires burn hot and bright in the wolves eyes
They howl and prowl as we lay soft and unalarmed
In our beds of bliss and soft scented sheets
But the dreams of our soul kiss madness
What harm a wolf prowling in the night
Awake... awake your eyes burn bright
Your skin is damp from a frightful dream
It seemed you were a wolf howling in the dark
Prowling the mists of stark blackness
Growling at the sight of a human by the firelight
Slinking just out of sight of his soul -- unmanned
Wondering at the kindred spirit you've found
Just out of reach, teeth bared, fangs glinting in the moonlight
Neither leaving prints in the wet ground with paw or feet
A drink of water before you go back to your damp sheets
And the wolves circle round and round once more
Until the fire burns low... Just the embers glow
Until the fire burns low... enough
Glo
Their paw prints lead you along trails of discovery and insight. To look in their eyes forever imprints your heart. To hear their howl forever marks your soul. To connect with them, forever bonds your spirit...
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