Perhaps it was the eyes of the wolf, measured, calm, knowing.
Perhaps it was the intense sense of family.
After all, wolves mate for life, are
loyal partners, create hunting communities
and demonstrate affectionate patience in pup rearing.
Perhaps it was the rigid hierarchy of the packs.
Each wolf had a place in the whole and yet retained his individual personality.
Perhaps it was their great, romping, ridiculous sense of fun.
Perhaps it was some celestial link with the winter night skies
that prompted the wolf to lay his song on the icy air.
For the native people who lived with the wolves,
and the wolves once ranged from the Arctic to the sub-tropics,
there was much to learn from them.
Is it any wonder that the myths of many tribes characterize the wolves
not as killers but as teachers?


Responses to "The Eyes of The Wolf"

  1. Unknown says:

    No small wonder why modern man is so ignorant. We have killed our teachers, and doesn't that happen in countries where the invaders are serious in their efforts? The teachers always go first, then comes the propaganda.

    Love your poetry. Please keep sharing it. :-)

  2. Thank you. I was surprised by how much 'her' face shifted during the four minute video. I know that faces often do... but with my 'modern' life I don't often sit still that long when not 'working'.

    It shows me how much I truly need to be still when I sit still.


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