I AM WOLF

WOLF : Guardian / Protector / Spirit / Wild / Ferocious

Through the stars the story tells of a WOLF who wanders at night. Some say they see a Girl riding his back, others says she walks beside him. A third visioner says, “There never were two but one. GIRL or WOLF, no one sees but knows.” How the story goes…depends on the night. Maybe there is one, maybe two, depends on who is walking and who is telling who. But, believing is what we do. It all depends on if you believe in what you feel or what you see.

She sees WOLF. She saw him then and sees him now. The Girl woke from her slumber in an abandoned cabin in the woods. She had to get out. Opening the door and discovering all that snow - she didn’t think she would make it. Fortunately, WOLF was there – waiting for her. He was there to protect her. WOLF, larger than life, truly; taller and wider than the rickety old wood cabin. He bent down, outstretched his paws and neck, offering his broadened back to her. She hopped on, embracing all his might, his graceful spirit, and strength of life that night.

Girl sighs deeply and whispers to WOLF, “You saved me.” That was their first of many interludes.

WOLF emerges as we need.

WOLF emerges at night.

WOLF emerges through vengeance and rages.

WOLF protects our soul fight.

WOLF emerges through the many ages.

WOLF contains our spirit flight.

WOLF is I and I am WOLF

WOLF I am and I am WOLF.

Prosaic words pound in her head buried in a pile of feathered pillows. Citrine opens her eyes, exhausted, after hours of not sleeping, again. “Arrghhh!” she roars. She covers her face with her hands, holding her eyes and forehead, taking a deep breath. “I’m so tired.” At a loss, loss of another night of sleep, dreams, relaxation or restoration. She’s going on day seven! “This is too long,” she manages to think, briefly. She feels like a zombie. “How? What?” she jumps thinking she hears someone or something talking.

Not knowing what time it is, she zombies to the kitchen to boil hot water for coffee. Straining to see which kettle to use, “Do I have two?” her neck aches and the soreness swells. Her shoulders harden and she can barely reach. “What? How?” she forgets. Sensing she is dreaming now, she walks back to her cushy bed and stares at the burning candle on her bedside table.

“Sleep Citrine, sleep.”

Crashing hard on the bed, she sees stars overhead. “WOLF” emerges, a constellation of his face. Jaw dropped and body melting with wide open, staring eyes. She doesn’t blink. She’s dry. She hears ringing in her ears. “Tinnitus” she recalls, a once slightly disturbing symptom of her hearing loss, now more exasperating than ever.

“WOLF” she slowly drawls out, “WOLFFFF”.

Citrine remembers “You were my protector. I had to get out. Opening the door and discovering all that snow, I didn’t think I would make it, but you were there – waiting for me. You were larger than life, truly. You were taller and wider than the rickety old wood cabin. You bent down, outstretched your paws and neck, offering your broadened back to me. I hopped on, embracing all your might, your graceful spirit, and strength of life that night.” She sighs deeply and whispers, “You saved me.”

Crawling through the woods, claws dig deep into the earth. The strength of her upper body propels her forward. She can hear the crickets, the hooting, and howling of other nocturnal creatures. Scouring along, freely pursuing the path. Senses keen. The smell of Moonflowers and freshly turned dirt, she sees her old tracks. She’s on the hunt. Thirsty. Starving. A raging hunger is growing like wildfire inside of her.

“I am wild. I am WOLF.”