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Selection 20 of

HOWL

by Mary Lambert

I HEARD A FERAL CHILD, AGE FOUR, SAY WHAT HE
MISSED MOST WAS THE HOWLING. HIS SMALL,
WHITE FACE WAS LIKE THE MOON--REFLECTING
LIGHT FROM A GREATER SOURCE...
 
IS IT A MEDITATION--THIS HOWLING AT THE SKY?
 
OR IS IT THE EVOCATIVE LIGHT OF THE MOON'S
SHADOWY FACE?
 
IS THIS CIRCLED CHANT AN ANCIENT RITUAL?
PERHAPS A KEENING PRAYER OF THANKS FOR LIFE,
FOOD AND THE JOYOUS RUSH OF THE FOREST?
 
ITS SOUND HAUNTS THE INDIGO DARKNESS.
GREAT PINES SHIMMER IN THE SILVERY LIGHT.
THE SOUND MUST ENTER THEIR ROOTS AND
GIVE UNDERSTANDING OF YOUR VIBRATO.
 
BEAUTIFUL IN ITS PURE STANCE.

Selection 20 of

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