The Wayward Wolf and Winter Owl
The wayward wolf howls to the misty moon,
His heart filled with sorrow,
That he spills into dead of night,
And echoes into silence of another cry,
Never stopping to let his weary feet rest,
Intensifying his cry.
The winter owl soars below the hollow moon,
Singing its sad tune,
Into sight as it sings and sighs,
Catching the sight of a wayward weary eye,
Together they meet and greet the rising of the dreary moon,
Filling their songs with the tune of the morrow,
Blending their hearts and souls in the tune of the morning’s morrow.
‘Till the moon doth rise again