My Wolf Page
Answering a single, souful call, the eyes of night
appear, shining more brilliantly than a thousand stars and bringing wih
them the eternal spirit of survival.......
Howl at me anytime
Eyes of Night
Ok,you guys...time to eat!
Don't even think about it!
Walk beside me and be my friend
I love you, Mom
OOPS! What is a bear doing in a wolves den?
Race you to the bottom!
When I give the signal, run for it, girls!
Thank you Lee, I love it !
He stands alone at the top of the hill
And sings his mournful cry.
His mate and cubs are missing
He's not certain why.
He had been out hunting
Was gone for only a day.
And hurried back with empty jaws
So scarce now was their prey.
He wasn't gone long
Eager to get home.
But the den was cold and empty
And he sensed something was wrong.
The smell of man was everywhere
With footprints in the dirt.
And blood shed from his family
He knew they had been hurt.
He sat and waited day by day
With hopes they would return.
There wasn't much he could do
Except quietly sit and yearn.
Why would man come all this way
To hunt and shoot them down?
To interrupt their quiet lives
When no harm had been done?
Their territory plainly marked
And not once did they stray.
For they would rather starve to death
Than to get in man's way.
The smell of chickens, cows and sheep
Were so tempting at times.
But instincts warned not to hunt them
Or they would lose their lives.
And so they lived their quiet life
Existing on small game.
Careful it was only wildlife
And nothing man had tamed.
So he could find no reason
For the blood shed on that day.
So peacefully they lived here
So far out of man's way.
Maybe they'd be coming back
His cubbies and his mate.
Wolves are mated once for life
So he would sit and wait.
That was many moons ago
And they have not come back.
But he will not stop hoping
For the reunion of his pack.
He now knows men are murderers
But still does not know why.
And every night he climbs his hill
And sings his mournful cry.
By Karen Evans
My beautiful yellow eyes.
Side by side we've hunted
Shadows dancing on northern skies.
There have been times of plenty
We were content and serene,
Dangers few and far between.
We've also known much hunger
Ribs protruding from each side.
Mournfully we howled
When our starving cubs had died.
And then there was our first winter
Romping through the glistening snow.
Tasting each crystal snowflake
Falling gently, to and fro.
Ah ! My dear, sweet yellow eyes
I've known no greater love,
Without you, I am nothing
Our wild souls are one.
And now you lay there dying
Steel jaws upon your frame.
Life's blood slowly seeping
I whimper your sweet name.
Helpless, I watch you struggle
Chest heaving with labored breath,
Steel jaws clenching tighter
Winds whisper the song of death.
The blood has now stopped flowing
I know the time is near,
And you will forever leave me
My love, my life, my dear.
And now my world is silent
Your struggles now have ceased.
I lay my head upon you
And know you are at peace.
Perhaps your soul has lifted
To skies where eagles soar,
And there you'll greet your brothers
To run with them forever more.
And someday I shall find you
In the heavens so far above,
And when our wild souls unite
There'll be no greater love.
By Joan L. Van Vels
We rustled through the leaves like wind,
Left shrubs and trees and wolves behind;
by night I heard them on the track,
Their troop came hard upon our back,
With their long gallop which can tire
The hound’s deep note and hunter’s fire:
Where’re we flew they followed on,
Nor left us with the morning sun;
Behind I saw them scarce a rood,
At daybreak winding through the wood;
And then through the night had heard their feet,
Their stealing, rustling step repeat.
George Gordon, Lord Byron,
THE WOLF IN THE KENNEL
A Wolf, that thought into a fold to creep
By night, mistakenly did leap
Into a kennel, and could not get out.
At once arose a fearful rout,
Scenting the bully grey, the baying pack
Would break through all to fight;
The whippers in "A thief! up,up lads!" shout;
The doors are closed with ready kick;
And all the kennel is a hell of a noise and fright.
With sticks some thither run;
Others snatch up a gun:
"A light! a light!" they cry. "Twas brought, and there
Our wolf sat, huddled against the wall,
His tail into the corner pressed, bristling his hair,
Chattering his teeth, and his eyes in a glare,
As if with them he could devour them all.
But, seeing that no sheep now stopped his way,
And that the reckoning came last
For those, on which he'd broken fast
So oft, our trickster again to pray
For parley and for peace:
"My friends, what cause is there for all this riot?
Tis I, your old friend of old and comrade quiet,
Come in good will to let all quarrels cease;
Let bygones be forgot, and general concord reign,
And I engage , not only no flock to touch again,
But for it against all others myself my teeth to use,
And on my oath of Wolf I swear,
That I..." -- "Good friend, forbear,"
Broke in the huntsman, "to abuse
Thyself! No greyer than my own thy hair
, And long thy wolfish nature have I seen;
Hence this my rule hath always been:
Not otherwise a peace to make
With any wolf, but when I take
His skin from off his back."
And the Wolf at once let loose the eager pack.
Ivan Andreyevitch, Fables
ANCIENT GYPSY RYHME
Even a man who is pure in heart
And says his prayers by night
May become a wolf when the wolfsbane blooms
And the autumn moon is bright.
A Wolf once prowled outside a fold, and thence
On peeping through the fence,
Saw that upon the best sheep of the flock
The Shepherds quietly were feeding,
And that the dogs lay round unheeding;
So off he muttering went, feeling a spiteful shock:
"Ye would have made, my friends, a nice ado,
Had I done this instead of you!"
Ivan Andreyevitch, Fables
RETURN OF THE WOLVES
All through the valley, the people are whispering:
the wolves are returning, returning
to the narrow edge of our fields, our dreams.
They are returning the cold to us.
They are wearing the crowns of ambush,
offering the rank and beautiful snow-shapes
of dead sheep, an old man too deep in his cups,
the trappers gnawed hands, the hunters tongue.
They are returning the whispers of our lovers,
whose promises are less enduring than the wolves.
Their teeth are carving the sky into delicate antlers,
carving dark totems full of moose dreams: meadows
where light grows with the marshgrass and water
is a dark wolf under the hoof.
Their teeth are carving our childrens names
on every trail, carving night into a different bone--
one that seems to be part of my bodys long memory.
Their fur is gathering shadows, gathering
the thick-teethed white-boned howl of their tribe.
gathering the broken-deer smell of wind
into their longhouse of pine and denned earth,
gathering me also, from my farmhouse
with its golden light and empty rooms, to the cedar
(that also howls its woody name to the cave of stars),
where I am silent as a bow unstrung
and my scars are not from loving wolves.
Anita Endrezze (Yaqui)
From the Alpha to the Omega, each has their place
in the pack. The Alpha: big, strong, commanding, respected by the
pack A true symbol of leadership. The Omega: quiet, submissive,
the lowest ranking member of the pack Yet valued highly by the pack
as the instigator of play and fun. The pack eats, sleeps, plays,
and hunts as one. Each member to the pack quickly learn their place
and join the pack helping to maintain a close knit family. The wolf
is a true victim of man's insecurity, haunted by the evil legends,
tales, and fables, hunted to the brink of extinction. But the Spirit
of the Wolf cannot be broken, they have survived man's attempts
to destroy them. Now they struggle to maintain their rightful place
in the wilderness. Maybe if man learns to understand the values
of the pack, Like the lone wolf that cannot survive without the
pack man cannot survive alone without his fellow kind. Continue
to fight for your survival. Wolf pack, raise your young, bring them
up in your footsteps,run Free, run Wild. Maybe someday your Howl
to unite the pack will be heard Everywhere.
I am your she-wolf following behind you
trying to keep your quick pace.
The snow falls heavily upon us as we speed through drifts deep,
I plow downwards to the bottom.
You stop instinctively, racing back to rescue me from danger
pulling me by my nape.
Your tongue licks my snout but I wince.
Smelling the blood you lie beside me in the frigid snow
licking my bleeding paw cut deeply from my fall.
Finally the bloods stops flowing and I lie my head across your massive
I am exhausted from our journey.
I feel the new life moving about inside me,
the new life you spewed into my loins from yours.
I do not understand this, I only know
I will cherish the pups as I cherish you for giving them to me.
As your alpha-mate, we will propagate a pack, seize a territory and live
if the two-legged animals will stop destroying us.
We lie closely together, snow falling, still I feel protected
by your devotion.
You keep me warm and allow me rest until it is time to forge ahead once
Your snout nudges me from sleep, licking me
it is time for me to follow my he-wolf to our new home.
Time for me to whelp our litter.
Time for me to take my place in the society of wolf hierarchy
beside My He-Wolf.