The clearing is dim.
A full moon has just started rising and the edges
of the woods throw weak shadows of their presence.
In those deep shadows, she sits and waits.
The ritual is nightly, long and lonely, she’s seen it before.
She is tense, jittery and her insides hungry.
Yet her hunger is not physical, it goes much deeper.
On the far side of the clearing rests a small lake
banked by high rocks and surrounded by tall trees.
Now the moon has fully left her resting place and
shines brightly, casting full shadows.
At the edge of the lake on the highest rise
a figure moves slowly towards the edge of the water.
She raises her head to sniff the air.
Is it him? Her heart pounds hard with possible excitement.
She takes a careful step backwards so as to not disturb the moment and watches as he climbs to the highest point of the rocky edge.
His figure is a silhouette against the great moon and
he sniffs the air, as if sensing that he is not alone.
A fog settles on the lake, light and whisperer.
She edges further into the shadows to witness
the ritual and remembers a moment in their past when
it was routine to play in meadows and not think about
what was expected of them.
He stands and looks around him thinking of his pack,
knowing his responsibility, feeling his heart stripped.
The spirit is dieing. He only wants to walk away.
Something is missing in his life. Something or someone.
The emptiness in his soul is as vast as the night,
the loneliness in his heart as deserted as the clearing.
He takes a step forward and eyes the night sky.
The moon shines so brightly. He looks about him,
This is my home, this is where I live and hunt.
Why is it such a stranger to me? Again he looks
towards the night sky and there he sees a glimmer.
The evening star winks back at his gaze.
She knows he’s not alone.
He raises his head and brings forth a low sad howl.
It echo's off the hill sides and down the valley.
Again he repeats the sound, not knowing why he makes the call.
It does seem to help ease a longing he's felt for so long.
It used to help with the pain, but not anymore.
Can’t the spirits hear my plea of the past?
She turns her head to the strange, yet so familiar sound.
It draws her forward as it did the first time she heard him.
Stepping forward into the silvery glow of the moon light
she brushes the sleeping flowers aside, white petals of roses
softly float around her, she watches him speak to the night.
Going back in time, she remembers a night like this.
The very first time she came upon this lake.
She had witnessed him standing alone upon the rocky rise,
the sound of his howl chased away by the night.
Then too, the sight of him had taken her breath away.
That time, she had been too late.
That time, Time wouldn’t have let her stay.
Perhaps this time, Time was playing a different game.
She asked Him, will you let me love him ?
How many ages will it take ?
Why, Princess ?Why ?? Can’t You see he is my beloved soul mate ?
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