The Song of The Wolf

 

Birth me into a cool night where
a dark canvas is filled of solace
of cosmic dreams, it breathes me
an essence of the night's womb.


My suckling fingers reach out
into the dark oblivion, tracing
my naiveness on the nocturnal
visage of my Father the sky.


His hands of sable reaches
forth to soothe the infantile
hills, and I glee to see the
neonates of the moon at play.


I want to run overtly across
the trestles of ether to see
the stars glaze the skies as
the moon sings its third chorus.


Over my cradle the song sweeps
of a quiet night that lulls me
asleep, the stars are my mobile,
the moon sings to me a lullaby.

© Rena Scribe 2009

Reviews

[deeps]

This is awesome! I really enjoyed your write here
Flowed so wonderful too.
Very well written

[Kelley]

That was amazing Rena! Where did you ever learn to write like that? I think your writing is way better than mine.Thanks for sharing.

Kelley