wolf rain

rain
wind
cold
all through the night
n into the day
the prince joins me at about 3am
the howling like a banshees cry of revenge
angry trees around the house swaying n moving
dark clouds menace the sky
heavy downpours
their only weapon
perhaps first night in a new bed
or the first time he has been aware of this sort of weather
for whatever reason
ck n I spend an hour
with him traversing the triangle of our beds
our words designed to coax him back to his own bed
his only thought
staying out of it!
i loved nights like this as a boy
especially with thunder n lightning
the bitter darkness
echoing some hidden part of me
so we awake this morning
and the storm
is mildly abated
enough for a walk
a play for the poet
a fish for the prince

wolf
ever thought of yourself as one?
i remember seen a friend
a therapist who had a sort of mosaic of wolves
as the picture up above his desk…
last book I finished
The main character
becomes one with a wolf
to the extent he can leave his body to death
n become the wolf

have you ever wanted to be fully outside of yourself?
to be one with another fully
so the separation is only a matter of degrees?
in-loveness is the only time I know this for myself
it can happen playing music too -
if ya r lucky
your hands n ideas seem to sort of gel
n your just in the moment
outside of time
outside of some sort of rational thought processes
you play
only yourself
notes rhythms sounds
cease to matter
the music just is

this way with the wolf too
only the present matters
this meal
this thought
this hunt
a true Buddhist!
perhaps that’s all we
(or i)
want for ourselves?
a moment of trueness
a moment of nowness
a moment or peace