Of These Two I Dreamt
Footprints on the river’s edge
once showed travels of the young;
Small steps heading to the west,
gone before the day begun.
Stories carried on the wind
drift into the weeks to come,
Still held in the hist’ry book
though the last chapter’s undone.
Music lifts from mountain tops
that are hid by distant cloud,
Catching unsuspecting ears
long suppressed under a shroud.
Sounds of nature wake from sleep
and arise to morning’s glance,
Weaving in and out of dreams,
waiting for the guest to dance.
A hunted wolf walks the path
which the rains turned into mud,
His life’s being left behind
in ev’ry drop of his blood.
He’s come from another world
where life’s waters flowed in peace,
Freedom’s now a memory
and death his only release.
Someday two will come to meet
in between said life and death,
Maybe at the river’s edge
that glides under nature’s breadth.
Or maybe it’s face to face
far out on the barren plains
Where the spirits of the past
ride the winds in search of names.
Then slowly through the sunrise
there’s a peace that’s overcome
By the pain which came before
an old life so strange to some.
I have dreamt all this and more
in the hours before dawn,
When the child and the wolf
came to where they’d now belong.
Copyright © Daniel Larson | Year Posted 2016