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Queen of the Wolves

- Queen of the Wolves -
Based on some of my past-life memories�

Part One: The Cavern

In the mountains of the primeval past, amidst rough crags,
There was a cave in which none dared to tread with spirit.
For the ice was oft thick about it, and as it melts and sags,
It runs as chill as frozen blood, causing the bold to fear it�
But worse still, all men said, was she who dwelt deep within.
Men can be fools, for the flee in terror from a mighty lady!
A shaman queen so great, that she knew all of a man�s sin.
Her eyes could pierce the flesh to the soul, and therein see!
And so I, a woman, came to seek her wisdom in that age�
Fleeing the lands of my birth, to come unto that lofty place,
Leaving behind me men, their lusts, their hungers, their rage.
I sought a woman who was my equal, in beauty and grace!

Part Two: The Queen

As I neared the cave I could hear wolves howling so shrill,
From someplace distant yet near, and they sounded fierce!
I thought mayhap they might fall upon me, meaning to kill�
But though they drew close, they were wiser in their years,
Than many men who had done me harm; and so I entered:
I came into the cave, where the great shaman queen ruled.
Many warm fires kept the place of power hotly centered�
Far from the chill outside, and where the flames so cooled,
A great throne of animal bones was set upon a rocky base.
Upon it was she, in a blackest gown, of the finest material,
Adorned with a wolf pelt cloak, a serene look on her face.
Wearing a crown of antlers, she was beautiful and terrible!

Part Three: The Lesson

Raven was her hair, as was my own in that long ago era�
And, I was enchanted: by her icy blue eyes, also like mine.
She could have been my twin sister, that cunning bearer�
Of arts that no common wisdom could find to be sublime!
Yet I found them so, and I became her willing apprentice.
For a single year I remained in her deep home, learning�
I was also her lover, and she taught me such arts of bliss,
Which only women understand, deeper passions burning!
At the end of the year, she showed me a place outside�
Where the wolves gathered, in countless, roaming packs.
That place was in the open; there was nowhere to hide�
And I was still fearful of the wolves and possible attacks.

Part Four: The Power

The wolves bowed to the queen, as if of one intelligence,
And I knew not one would harm me whilst thusly bound.
She taught me, that wolves have their own dim brilliance,
Being not the awful beasts of legend, but more profound.
She knew the mind and the spirit of the wolf, most deep!
And I came to know it also, and I was moved to tears�
To think how men hunt them so cruel, their skins to keep.
All because of a lack of knowledge, and too many fears!
But I had no idea the power that the queen possessed�
When she directed them, to fall upon some local hunters.
The hunters were slain to a man, their shrieks distressed!
And human skins were taken: by the queen of the antlers.

Part Five: The Price

Those hunters once tried to ravish me, but wolves came,
Scaring them away so that I could keep my girlish virtue.
Today those men paid the ultimate price, none to blame,
For when men commit evil acts, nature will have its� due.
I clasped the shaman queen�s hands later that evening�
During one final grand ritual: that she was about to teach.
And I saw through her eyes, commanding and gleaming!
She saw through mine, and I cried out as if to beseech�
But I realized that there was only me: the shaman queen.
The scared girl who feared the hunters was long gone�
I remembered being her, as if looking back on a dream!
Too many years alone in that cave, I left that very dawn.

Part Six: The Pact

Madness can be the price you pay for wisdom, but I�
Had broken free of it, and so I returned unto civilization.
My tormentors were dead, their bones beneath the sky!
I taught my tribe, the lore of wolves, amidst celebration.
In time, I took an apprentice and she became my lover:
She was a scared girl, as I was when I fled to that cave,
And I knew it was her spirit I did in my visions uncover.
When the time was nigh, to her my antler crown I gave!
I never took her to the cold place, of my old sojourn�
Never showed her the skins of those hunters long dead.
She was an innocent soul and had not the need to learn,
That nature is, sometimes, in tooth and claw: blood red.