Song Of The Wolves

80 feet beat the ground,

The rumble heard miles away,

In their trail nothing remains,

Then disappear to never be found.

12 green eyes shining bright,

Searching and hunting deep in the night,

And one pair of blue.

With fur like snow.

That hides from view.

Grey fur bleached white,

A spectacular show.

A very strange sight.

The lone wolf hides in the shadows.

It hunts in pale moonlight

Avoiding a pack fight,

Sits on the bank watching the owls.

Then up comes a hunter,

That sits at the edge of the water.

Fur curly and black

And knowing green eyes

Prepared for attack

He and the earth are one,

Faith in the moon on which he relies,

Leaps to his feet to run.

Strong tail wagging excitedly,

Gives the pale one a devilish grin,

With playful glee that came from within,

Howls In joy loudly.

Pup personality acts like sheep clothing.

But bliss of ignorance of which he knows nothing.

A warriors experience

Masked by eyes of a puppy,

The serious hidden in innocence.

The skills of the pack leader

Too hard to copy,

Who lifts up the weaker,

Puts on an act of insignificance

Pretends to be just like the others,

Pretends to fit in with sisters and brothers,

But Authority and power in things he's voices.

In front of his pack he's a silent observer,

Who strives for excellence in all of his followers.

Muscles toned and trained for war,

Speed beyond those before him

With tactics of a feared predator.

Superior intellect is rarely shown,

The chance to see it is very thin,

Knowledge of its existence is barely known.

Young is the wolf his color of midnight.

But his knowledge is ancient,

Enough to fill pages,

With the facts in his mind.

Here's a wolf who hunts from different instincts,

Instilled by the moon since the very beginning.

Instincts of heart and not of mind,

They speak to the soul,

The Inner feelings inside.

Two shades, Black and white

The difference is drastic, but value is equal

Two times of day, dark and light.

8 gentle feet sail through the woods,

Their tempo can be heard by those who listen,

A gentle melody playing off in the distance,

Eloquently written by two kindred spirits,

running in tandem to the song of the wolves.