Bound for Home
Dawn rested still, upon the horizon as the clouds circled the sun like hungry hawks.
The sky contemplated its’ disguise between a dismal gray and a crisp-blue.
My head ached as I stirred from my winter-induced coma
- and found myself gazing up at an inviting sunrise.
Bright, beautiful colors swam in the sea of sky,
tireless pinks and reds masked in specks of gold
- enveloped the thick purple clouds.
With the immaculate mix of hues
it would have appeared that God Himself
- was trying to entice me to go on living.
For, in the midst of life, we are in death,
Heaven must be of moments like this
- when the balance of life is harmonious.
Perhaps I was dead, I was beyond pain,
- and the sky was the clearest I had ever seen.
I attempted to move but found myself unable to,
- my legs pinned down, seemingly more like hell
as the beautiful open sky before me
clung to the riches of the earth with my poor soul
- confined to the fleshy-tombs of sin.
My eyes fell upon a creature of familiar air,
- as it twitched between the rise and fall of a pulsating-chest.
Upon further investigation,
I was shocked to discover the body to be that of a dog
- no not a dog . . . a wolf . . .
- the wolf from the previous night.
She stirred with a sigh and lifted her massive head.
My breath went coarse and my heart began to pound
- as though it were fighting to presume its’ natural rhythm.
She turned her attention to me as I gasped,
- her deep blue expression seemed tamed, almost human-like.
Though for some unknown reason, I was not frightened,
- only, surprised and relieved at how tender she was.
She stumbled in her morning-daze to her feet and stepped back.
I studied her manner, still skeptic, but overall excepting of my new friend.
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A few hours after staggering to my feet,
I was working the feeling back into my right foot.
It never regained itself as did the rest of me,
- so I stooped over a blazing fire vigorously rubbing it.
The sun shone bright through the tree tops
- and I relished every moment she spared.
Back in my limbo, I pressed on,
- no food, and limited supplies.
My wolf-friend jumped through the snow
- racing me along the path,
- she only stopped to look back when she did not hear me.
I adored how it was that she could have easily disguised herself in the snow,
- her beautiful white fur carrying only a slight tint in the tail and behind her ears.
I halted in my steps to process my thoughts,
-but the grip of winter tightening about my brain, made it impossible,
All that could be accessed was the presence of a single quote.
(Funny how moments can be broken by the strangest occurrences.)
I gazed ahead at the majestic grace of the wolf, only to say:
“The joy in looking and comprehending
- is nature’s most beautiful gift.”
“That was poet John Dryden . . . " I continued.
Life has a reason to its' madness as did I to my thoughts,
That quote had its' reason for presenting itself at that moment.
And as though needing some approval I began to think aloud:
“The greatest gift given to humankind is the blessed view around us.
The process of slowing down
so one might gaze upon the glories of mother earth.”
“I am still here, so I must consider the reasoning behind this.”
The wolf tilted her head then jumped back into a running position
- left me far behind.
I suppose I am not terribly angry at this most unfortunate dilemma.
Why who knows, it could bring forth a plethora of final moments to reflect upon.
Anyhow, if winter does not finish me,
- then most certainly hunger and dehydration will, I thought to myself.
My friend, at this point, was not in eyesight and the first snowfall started.
And with any signs of our existence soon disappearing beneath the fresh layer of snow,
I took it upon myself to rest my aching feet.
I glanced up and called, my voice shaking through the empty walls of land.
"We shall rest here."
The trumpeting gallop of paws brought her back into my sight.
She circled around my stooping body and stretched herself out.
“You are very kind to aide me in my final days.
You are not like the others.
I haven’t had the pleasure in having a true friend in years.
So . . . since you are a friend,
I can’t very well be calling you, “Wolf . . . ”
Everyone needs a name if they wish to be claimed
. . . You remind me of an old beauty.
- Something not seen since long ago.
Hmm . . . Mika!
- . . . Yes, with a foreign beauty such as yours’ . . .
Mika fits very well indeed.”
She glanced up at me with a light dispersing from her eyes,
- as though satisfied with my decision; a blessing upon her name.
After a while my eyelids fell victim to a weight and slowly they closed.
“Perhaps . . . ” I mumbled.
“ . . . a nap for us aged-souls.”
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The fresh frost seeped into my pants as I forcibly opened my eyes.
The hours chasing away the light as twilight descended.
My head ached and stomach cried out from hunger-pains.
I found Mika sound asleep upon my legs.
She had an atrocious snore that could wake any nearby town.
“Mika!” I whispered. “Wake up Mika.”
Her eyelids moved,
- then slowly blossomed two beautiful blue eyes.
I pulled out from under her and grabbed any nearby sticks and fallen branches.
Of all my supplies the matchbox was the most used.
I pulled out one of the few remaining matches and struck it.
Within moments the fire spread throughout the wood and light flooded us and the trees.
Mika stood to her feet and yawned. She then ****** her head and ran into the darkness.
“Mika!” I cried.
She had not returned for some minutes when I heard the rustling of something from within the thick black surrounding myself and the fire.
“Mika?” I cried out again.
A dark figure appeared dragging with it some unknown object.
As it came closer I noticed the gentle white of Mika’s fur.
She had with her a branch of some sort. I arose to look closer.
It was a holly branch, on which grew clusters of bright red berries.
She struggled with bringing it toward the fire
- but the branch was no match for her strength as she dropped it at my feet.
I sat back down by the light and stared at the branch.
She let out one enormous bark,
demanding in tone, as though giving me an order.
“What, am I to do with this?” I asked puzzled.
Again she barked that demanding bark and began to incessantly whine.
“Mika, if this is what I’m thinking your actions to be true . . .”
I continued. “I am not eating that!”
"I appreciate your enthusiasm
- no matter how inconvenient and wearisome it maybe.
However, I must put before, anything else that of which I came here to do."
She whimpered beneath her pants
- stepping in closer as if to gesture an insistence.
The fire pulsated against her thick coat as she nudged the branch toward me.
I gazed at her unmoved continuing:
“You’ve delayed me a day already!
You were a witness to last night.
You watched me lie by the fire,
you saw the emptiness in my eyes, the lack of life."
She did not understand I could see
as she remained just as stubborn as I in her position before me.
My weariness grew and after some moments of exchanges I stated:
"I will not entertain your desire to continue on!”
“Do you understand . . . I refuse to.
I am ready to die . . . I miss my family.”
She walked over to me and rested her head delicately upon my lap.
“I know what you must be thinking.” I went on.
“You’re thinking, no problem is worth dying over
and perhaps you’re right,
but I no longer wish to waste my life living in this hell.”
She lifted her head to gaze up at me.
“I’ve lost everyone . . . I dug the graves for each one with my own two hands.
I live with that knowledge,
and this painful beating continues to pump the blood through my veins."
She retained her composure of wistful regards in the deep pool of her blue sight.
"I no longer wish to live,
- when my family remains six-feet deep in the rich soil they helped to plow!
Without family what is there to life? Whom do I laugh with, cry with?”
“Family is life . . .
- without them there is no life.
It has been this way since the dawning of all humanity."
I stopped upon the realization that my conversation was one-sided
simply finishing by stating:
“My dear little Mika, you are a wolf
and wolves are known for their obedience to their pack.
I am simply longing to return to mine."
The fire popped and cracked in its’ brilliant motion
and I remained quiet until my consciousness surrendered to the night.