Old wisdom
Old wisdom
Night still and quiet, tensed calm before the storm
Moon cast shadows dancing across the plains
A soft amber glow, heralding the coming new day
Desolate baleful calls drifting echo on the wind
I stand silent and listen in deepest awe
Majestic Wolf, poised upon the high peek
Scanning ground, ever alert, pack drifting all around
Head back, voicing song, an old cry for the elders
Howled spirit songs, piercing the edged night
And now the pack joins in
Sweetest harmony, a sacred blend
Calls reaching up to the heavens
The star lit sky, alums their blissful smiles
These, the ancestor’s affectionate eyes.
The pack closes
Wise beyond words, seen in his soulful eyes
Perception liken the world of old
They’d soon to retire, back to the den and safety
But first they must finish, this ritual of love
And thank mystery for the success of the hunt
The tribes, the packs, people of all clans
Had once lived remarkably different
For the world was at peace, as created and made
Meant for all life to share
And as daylight grows closer, they break from the song
Ease away toward their homes, journey done
And a thought comes to my mind, as I watched them depart
Would my people ever to learn
Could they make time, to stand on this hill
To listen and learn what is needed
Would they ever hear, or even imagine
The quiet wise pleas of the Mother
Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre December 2nd, 2007