Who Are We?(Another wolf poem)

August 2nd, 2007

Heavens still.
The moon has yet to rise.
Darkness falls on the silent hill,
All is calm…
And still.

Slowly.
Slowly.
The moon makes it’s rise to a peaceful throne,
Looking over a silent paradise..
The wolves raise their voices,

They hear.
The people.
They hear the wolves sing.
And they fear…
Because they do not know…

Of peace,
Of purity,
Of innocence.
Of love.
Of Joy.

But the wolves know of all,
They know of a life of love and pain,
Unconditionally….
They bleed and hunger,
Cry and thirst…

Who are we to call them monsters?
Who are we to reject them?

Are we not the most horrifying of all?
Cruel and merciless towards our own kind,
War and lies…
Disgusting deceit.

So who are we to call them monsters?
Call them beasts.
To fear without knowledge…

Who are we?
To Judge.

Reviews

[Siddartha Beth Pierce]

A beautiful ode to the Wolves. Nicely written and sincere. I love how wolves communicate with one another and are so familial. I believe the white wolf is a totem animal of mine as I have seen her in meditation. This is truly lovely. Thank you.
Light,
Siddartha