White Wolf Waits

The heady scent of pine 
drops like heavy incense in the heat of the day,
falling with the cones and
mingling with the hot
spicy scent of crushed greens,
as White Wolf
moves swiftly through
pathways tunneled under the shrubs
lining the hillside. . .

Raven swoops down between
the tall trees searching. . .
his wing tips stretch out
like fingers,
as if feeling the dry air for clues,
the pitch black of his feathers
leave trails against the stark blue,
an insoluble and depth-less sky 
frozen over the hot forest. . .
a few lazy flies buzz around 
odoriferous offerings
while
a feather drifts
down from a silent tree. . .
then song,
a crystal melody
and Wolf, her silver
eyes gaze upward,
halts on her path for a moment. . .
she contemplates this song
as if listening for the wisdom
of the ages,
a wisp of air lifts a tuft of fur
from her shoulders,
for a moment she has wings . . .
her ears twitch back
and she climbs to her
ridge above the watering hole
where the stream was damed up
after the earth moved . . .
she flops down with a sigh
under her favorite tree,
her eyes focus on the water rippling
and sparkling with brilliant gold flashes
where it filters over the dam . . .
hearing a rustle in the woods
she watches as a doe
with her child descends
from the opposite ridge to drink. . .

and Wolf remembers her own
tribe, her pack, her children
hunting in the fields by the river bank.
The doe locks eyes with the wolf
and momentarily startled
freezes and then calm descends
on her tense shoulders
when she sees that White Wolf
is not hunting ..  ..

Instead, White Wolf closes her eyes
and lays her head between her paws,
and waits quietly
for the tiny singing bird
to join her
with its song of healing and rest
as she does every day
since the earth moved.

##

Continued from: http://orangeupurple.blogspot.com/2010/06/ephemeral-as-stream-in-forest.html

Long ago, I had a spirit guide, a white wolf. When I was at my lowest, my very lowest . . . I would often see this white wolf walk by my side. I could reach out and touch her, feel her fur . . . see her silver eyes look into mine. I always remember this wolf and she is very powerful in my mind, not a day goes by but that I think of her . . .  I always know that she has my best interests in mind and I have learned so much from the wolf.

I have decided to learn how to draw. It comes from boredom . . . this need to learn stuff . . . but I am also frustrated because I am not able to capture wolves, dragons and angels with wings on my camera. Thus I am going to learn how to draw these items along with a few others. Please forgive my poor skills but I hope to come out of this with a better ability to please the eye.

M^^W