Wolf's Way Princess, Montana Skies

 Shape Shifter by Diane Elizabeth Stanley

Wolf's Way Princess, Montana Skies
By Linda A. Copp

The Wind is Singing through the trees
with winging Eagles,
swept up atop Majestic Mountains High.

A Song of Colors,
Energies,
life's rainbow.
Spirits mingling in every breath
that's heard and shared
and every hush that falls and sighs, 
with this wilderness 
It cries!

We are One!

Montana skies and rising Sun.

  Great
Wilds of Wonder
living here
with all its magic.
Trees salute the skies,
yet, bend and grow.
Forest, woods, rocks hewn 
and flowers dancing.
Bending down to kiss the ground
in sunshine, rain or snow.

Sprawling wilderness
hugs Mountains
in all seasons,
Steep or valleys deep 
and sleeping far below,
Drinking up the waters,
rushing by them,
splashing 'round and through
 the soul's renewal, 
washing over you!

Thirsty, crystal blue and clear.
Tell me can you Hear!

Nature speaks in whispers, 
thunder, joy
And Runs,
A Dreaming pool 
of Many 
and
All the Ages.

Streams and Rivers flowing freely in the Sun.

Sages,
write and reach again,
Living Pages in the wind.
Etching rocky hills and paths
Serenity, Solitude,
walk past.

Lying, down in deepy grass,
Flying wings that rise,
and spread and Pass.

FREEDOM!

  Freedom drifting down,
covering the ground, 
as it was meant to be
running, growling, growing
scurried, rushed or flowing. 
Sun Dancers,
prancing, strutting, dancing 
in the winds of 
Now and yesterday.
All Their footsteps, 
old and young,
they are 
One.

Montana skies and setting Sun.

Every, ALL, WE Spirits
Become One.

As Then...
into her realm she comes...
Walking Wilderness and Grace.

Beauty washes o'er this place.

Wolf's Ways Wild Wood Princess
 walks these pathways
winding down
around the curving, narrowing
trail ways,
that they,
the pathfinders,
her beloved wolves,
 have shared and tread upon,
Padding along unhurried,
on booted, certain feet.

Following around,
before, behind her,
Aloof the wolf,
he is not so,
not so with she.

Devoted,
Faithful, Family,
the Pack, 
enjoys the sunshine,
comfortable,
in step,
in company.

Ah!
When then they
Stop
Sensing something

Suddenly,
Moving out of reach and touch,
Paused, Poised Expectancy is such,
Tensing, Tension, Apprehension.
Ears are perched and pointing,
Listening. 
Noses intake, sniff, the scent
and Wait.

Fate, Awaiting Fate.

Eyes, alert are searching
 skyline, lakes,
 trees, shrubs, bramble,
 trembles,
rocks, ground, quakes.

There is danger in the wind.

The slayer,
breathes heavily 
and
they feel him,
the predator comes again.

And he has come for them. 

The Spirits Cry,
In the blue Montana skies.
Weeping,
The echo and the sigh, 
Mystical on High.
Mountains hear the pain
now, running,
 screaming out its name.

 Danger comes, Death waits,
Wolf's Way and her  
Princess.

Hearts are pounding,  
quickening steps,
scatter, run, and hide 
for they hunt you
with bullets, guns.

Taking Life  unjustified.

Something has died
within, 
inhumane breasts,
humanity suppressed,
makes victims of us all.
We the yearning, rest, 
become just
Quarry, Prey, Conquest.

Shots are fired, 
heard
ringing, stinging, zinging, 
sharp and piercing through,
falls the princess and her young
shattered bones and hearts for some. 
Howling out,
in pain.
  Targeted they aim
to feel like men they claim...
The Kill.
Spirits, bloods are spilled.

I wonder why
 some need to feel like this,
death called upon and kissed.
Victims are the slain,
blood bled and shed in vain,
under blue Montana skies.

Hear the spirit cries,
 Our Father
shakes his head and sighs.
Teardrops, falling from His eyes
spilling from the skies,
 on this,
His
Hallowed Ground.
Weeping for the spirits come and gone
and yet, 
to be.
He blesses all in His love and in His mercy,

Now, Held Timeless In the sky,
in the blink and Nod  
of God's own eye.

In Wolf's Way,
today
A grieving Princess sheds her tears, 
heart broken, drenched in pain.
As a howl heard throughout the heavens,
 gives voice to
the darkening skies, 
of midnight blue.
Wolves are gathering
beneath them too! 

 Hear their cries.
Under Dark Montana skies.

Fallen Brother by Diane Elizabeth Stanley

Baying at the Moon,
a mournful, tune. 
Unashamed.
Broken hearts all grieve the same.

Looking into,
spilling into, 
their Princess
they are
One,
One spirit all, who
have come and gone,
Yet,
still are here, 
And run,
not forgotten,
nor forsaken,
part of Wind, and Earth and Sun!

One Spirit, all One Spirit
We and They are One.

By Linda A. Copp
©October 23, 1999

Dedicated to Wolf  #10
a brief account of his story at this site.
In Remembrance of Wolf #10

From the account of his story in Thomas McNamee's book,
"The Return of The Wolf To Yellowstone".