Tuesday, July 9, 2013

a jauntiness of spirit


“There’s something there--down in the stream!”

“It’s a wolf!”

we stop the car and tumble out,
I fumble with the camera,
already fitted with the long lens
and set for a fast shutter,

I snap picture after picture 
as the jaunty black wolf makes her way upstream,

splashing through Soda Butte Creek,
stopping for a quick drink,
a grey wolf follows for a time

and then lies down to relax in the sage,
more and more people stop,
intense with anticipation,
mesmerized by a wolf just lying there,

we’ve lucked upon wolves,
so completely wild that we are as nothing to them,
though, to us, they are vital,
like parks and wilderness,
for all that is not ours helps us know
that we are not all there is
and that we are better 
when we don’t remake all the world in our own image,
that which is wild we can hold in our heart 
and let it feed our spirit,
it can be like remembering to subordinate ourselves to God,

minutes later, up the valley, 
a magnificent young grizzly grubs on the grassy hile near the road,
we gawk and photograph,

later in the day a young male mountain goat
forages and gambols high on the cliffs above the road,

it is hard to hold even a bit of the power of the wild
shared with us today by wolf, ear, and goat,

out spirit joys with their spirit,
as we together remember the eternal.

by Henry H. Walker
June 25, ’13

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