The moon hangs cold and white, A coin of polished bone. I watch the falling night Upon my granite throne.
Below, my family sleeps, A tide of silver-gray. The patient forest keeps The secrets of our way.
My ears sift every breeze For the snap of a foreign tread. My breath is on the freeze, No wordless thought unsaid.
These scars that map my hide, Tell tales of tooth and claw, The strength I hold inside, The keeper of the law.
Beside me, warm and deep, My Luna breathes at peace. A trust the shadows keep, That gives my soul release.
The hunger is a fire, A duty, not a rage. To lead them, to inspire, To turn life’s brutal page.
So now I’ll point my chin, And loose a silver sound, Let the old song begin On this, our hallowed ground.
It is no cry of strife, But a promise and a prayer: I am the soul of life, And the pack is in my care.
Pam Beach ‘Beyond the Blog’
If you enjoyed the poem feel free to caffeinate the creator. https://beyondtheblog.org/power-the-next-post/
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