24 February 2012
A voice,
A song,
A whisper,
Is carried through the wind each night.
Each note is a wave of sound,
They hold in the air until they drift down to the ground.
I look closer and the singer emerges.
The sleek, slender-bodied singer comes into veiw,
A wolf.
The original singer of all living things.
His song sounds lonely and innocent.
Just as quick as the song starts,
It ends,
And the forest's singer disappears into the tall, green trees.
The Wolf • Opuss № I