A wolf once roamed where the wild grass grew,
Its shadow stretched wide in the morning dew.
It lived by the howl and the scent of prey,
But the wind had schemes to alter its way.
The wind spoke soft as it twisted the pines,
“Why hunt alone in these endless confines?
Follow my course, and I’ll guide you near
To valleys of plenty and skies crystal clear.”
The wolf, though wary, obeyed the breeze,
And wandered far from the forested seas.
Through deserts of dust and cliffs that groaned,
It sought the treasures the wind had intoned.
Yet when it arrived where the wind had led,
The land was barren, the rivers were dead.
“What trick is this?” the wolf barked in despair,
But the wind just laughed as it teased the air.
“You trusted a song that cannot be seen,
Chasing a promise of places serene.
But I am the wind—I carry no weight,
And those who follow, inherit my fate.”
The wolf returned, though ragged and thin,
Its fur was torn, and its ribs showed within.
Yet it stood once more in the ancient trees,
Where the earth had roots, and the air was free.
“Beware,” it warned to the beasts of the wood,
“Not all that whispers intends what is good.
Let winds blow wild, let temptations play,
But never forsake the soil that stays.”
POETRY FESTIVAL. Submit to site for FREE. Submit for actor performance. Submit poem to be made into film. 