Wolf

she-wolf keening the stiffened, frozen cubs,
licking the frosted muzzles cyanide tracings, sweet
the steaming meat
she gently places
as an offering,though she knows they are dead.

run down to earth the snow with bursting heart
down to the bright red hammering pulse, and further
down
one by one
the rifle shot
echo resounding a terrible, alien blood lust.

protruding, blackened tongues, no more the night chant,
blanket of sound, the earth her moaning,
futile,
her emptied womb,
and the seed
dried and rustling among forgotten leaves.

a wind of running leaves across the prairie,
a scent of pine in frozen north the muskeg
lakes
lent footprints
cast in sandstone
grains rubbing time the desert's constant edge.

softly contoured voices moaning the night,
the wolves in circle, council the moon
shadows
bent starlight
of fingered sleet
rattles the gourd of earth down feathered roots.

beyond beginnings the earth her many tribes
and clans their life songs merge in to one
chant
welcome dance
to the unborn
awaiting in the sun-fingered dawn.

and to each creation the heartline trail
is etched in delicate memory pattern
song
so intricate
in a unity
of day into night the seasons follow.

the moaning low of wolves to ears of men
first wisdom gained by another's quiet
song
of meditation
circle of council
bound together by their basic power.

and the quiet way of learning was the food
and spark the hearth of compassion warm
enfolding
all others
born of earth
in the harmony of mutual need.

in thanks the minds of curious men
sought further wisdom from the brother
wolf
his clan
a special order
a strength through lasting kinship.

and recognized the she-wolf's place
in balance with that of the male leader
heads
of family
to be obeyed
because their first law was survival.

and studied the pattern of the hunt
where each had a particular role
defined
by need
and acted upon
without the slightest hesitation.

and moaning low the wolf song,
head bent the drummer and voice to sky
singer
 in thanks
to brother wolf,
now your song will sing in our voices.

Again the rifle shot and snapping jaws
of steel traps and poisoned bait,
the bounty hunter and fur trapper
predators
of greed
whose minds create vast lies.

and moaning low in death chant
the one remaining wolf staggers
and falls
to death
as winds carry his voice into tomorrow.

and the voice is an accusation howling
within the brain heart pulling sinews
harshly
you, too
I hang my death about your neck in circle.

mourn the buffalo and the beaver
keen the fox and mountain cat,
shout
the grizzly
antelope, elk, moose, caribou and many

more gone into death the prime breeders
to fashion garments of vanity,
Indian,
brother,
cleanse the blood lust from your naked spirit

and fast and pray your spirit's new growth
and be reborn into childhood innocence
purity
our maker
awaits your ancient promise.

the wolf in dream has petitioned
for his voice in council
now
in this place
let us open our minds.

scattered and lost the people fall,
orphaned, the child feels hunger,
where is tomorrow?
where does it hide

there are four voices coming
from four directions
the center is harmony
the center is beginning
scouts and messangers called back,
the council is the mind
it is merging thought
the nation's birth.
now when warrior's feast,
they eat of embers
of fire's heat
stored energy.
the warrior society is the wolf society
is the clan family
heart of tribe.
anger seeking wisdom,
council after meditation
there is a vision
held in secret trust.

I dance upon my three remaining legs,
look,
the memory of the forth keeps my balance,
see,
my whispy white and cyanide fog-breath,
hah!
taut sinews vibrate the sky's held thunder,
huh!
steel traps I weave a necklace of your making,
hah!
puffs of dust I quick-stomp with paw feet,
huh!
I am becoming you dancing for them,
hah!
I jump upon your back a heavy robe,
huh!
my shadow will nip your pumping ankle,
huh!
you will think of me in the full moon light,
huh!
I crunch your long bones sucking the marrow,
nose your severed head before me the trail,
tear strips of flesh the ribbons weave a net,
chew hair and fingernails into mash
I slap upon my festered stump your human glue,
hah!
Now you are dancing,
brother human,
now you are dancing

****written by Peter Blue Cloud****

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