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  • Writer's pictureThe Beverly Arts

The Wolf

A poem by Joey Zhou


Is not only the crescent moon in memory,

Or the faint starlight around the moon,

And the stars and the full moon,

There are moments of the night sky and the meteor;

The wolf is wailing.

The wolf is calling,

The wolf is a loud roar of the vast.


Not only the rising sun on the horizon,

Or the mountains illuminating in the morning glow,

And the golden light,

And the bright noon sun;

The wolf is blood.

The wolf is the fire of nature's call,

The wolf is waiting for darkness to fall.


It's not just thirst.

Or lonely?

And loneliness and waiting,

And do your best to run;

The wolf is the youth,

Wolf is vitality,

The wolf lingers, helplessly waiting.


It's not just desire.

Or lust?

And greed and death.

And faithful love;

The wolf is separate.

The wolf is the distance of love and hate,

The wolf is fast as lightning breaks.


It's not just loneliness.

Or the wildness of the wild.

And independence, And alone.

And the God of self-subservience;

The wolf is loyal.

The wolf is insisting,

The wolf is reborn perseverance.


It's not just the woods.

Or fire in the woods?

And hunting, makes balance in the food chain.

And the hidden dangers of the rolling hills;

The wolf is ignorant.

The wolf is fear.

The wolf is a confused reality.


It's not just a flower in the mirror.

Or the moon in the pond,

And peace and paradise.

Wolves make new homes and leave the past.

The wolf is you.

The wolf is me.

The wolf is the eternal epic that our ancestors left us!



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