deepundergroundpoetry.com
From my story book of words
They are called clan of Nor and wear the history of peninsula of fjords upon their skin. Fiercely build and slightly bigger, chalky ashen is their furry mantle in which many a secret is kept.
Each time I touch the main leading Wolfs fur I am filled with pine needle dreams. Forests dance in their eyes. Many a myth they tell me. They came from the Old World, far, long ago. Before existence of any written history. Before mankind called them Wolf.
Varg Evening Wolf is the main leader. He tells me stories. His heart is so kind it weighs but a feather and deepens like midnight sun. Varg Evening Wolf smiles his ivory teeth as he explains to me all star constellations . A firmament of light gathers to intensify than fade. “ It is them that guided us” speaks Evening Wolf in a voice that delves into my pelvis slithering over my spine enchanting my my soul as he speaks. “Stars are not dead as some will make you believe, stars are signposts, our nadir, counterpoint. We have no maps in our animal kingdom. We have yet to make our own atlas.. Though there were some we crowned our ancestors. Those who have acknowledged us have made us into deities into gods into feral beasts.
It was said that Fenrir killed Odin though he speaks to us in starlight formations anointing them with gratitude and forgiveness. We are dreams we are seeking suns and icons of war. We are keepers of sacred wisdom for we are the bones of mankind. Kindred flames in half light”. He puts his giant paw upon my shoulder to comfort me, sleeps by my side to protect me. I hear his heart beating for human kindness. There is music in his heartbeat as we lay neath nocturnal skies.
The other wolves grouped out on the fields each has their own specific task. Their presence becomes one with silhouetted night. I hear their Wolf language and sonar callings though I am of human blood so I can not pick up the subtle signals. Their ears widen and soften as they register all around. Even in their sleep they would capture dew drops falling. They would capture leaves crumble into dust. Signaling also to each other
Their nose upwards to taste the psyche of silence smelling each possible danger each possible good. Knowing each intent far beyond the marble distance.
copyrights © owned by Rianne 2024
all rights reserved
Each time I touch the main leading Wolfs fur I am filled with pine needle dreams. Forests dance in their eyes. Many a myth they tell me. They came from the Old World, far, long ago. Before existence of any written history. Before mankind called them Wolf.
Varg Evening Wolf is the main leader. He tells me stories. His heart is so kind it weighs but a feather and deepens like midnight sun. Varg Evening Wolf smiles his ivory teeth as he explains to me all star constellations . A firmament of light gathers to intensify than fade. “ It is them that guided us” speaks Evening Wolf in a voice that delves into my pelvis slithering over my spine enchanting my my soul as he speaks. “Stars are not dead as some will make you believe, stars are signposts, our nadir, counterpoint. We have no maps in our animal kingdom. We have yet to make our own atlas.. Though there were some we crowned our ancestors. Those who have acknowledged us have made us into deities into gods into feral beasts.
It was said that Fenrir killed Odin though he speaks to us in starlight formations anointing them with gratitude and forgiveness. We are dreams we are seeking suns and icons of war. We are keepers of sacred wisdom for we are the bones of mankind. Kindred flames in half light”. He puts his giant paw upon my shoulder to comfort me, sleeps by my side to protect me. I hear his heart beating for human kindness. There is music in his heartbeat as we lay neath nocturnal skies.
The other wolves grouped out on the fields each has their own specific task. Their presence becomes one with silhouetted night. I hear their Wolf language and sonar callings though I am of human blood so I can not pick up the subtle signals. Their ears widen and soften as they register all around. Even in their sleep they would capture dew drops falling. They would capture leaves crumble into dust. Signaling also to each other
Their nose upwards to taste the psyche of silence smelling each possible danger each possible good. Knowing each intent far beyond the marble distance.
copyrights © owned by Rianne 2024
all rights reserved
Published 12th Dec 2024
Author's Note
at 3 minute 34 somewhere starts a new chapter I have not yet typed this out
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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