Wolf Warrior,
Have you ever wanted to Waltz the hills like a beast?
You are your own pale shadow in the quarter moon,
An ear pressed against a silver railroad track.
I wonder which might be your home,
Here where unrest is everything.
Ancient songs of the Earth...
...full of breathless whisperings;
Outlasting twilight in a field which you begin to think was barely there before;
Wearing wild flowers in her hair.
Now lies the Earth all Danae to the stars
Straight up, unchecked by anything but clouds.
And as by some vast magic undivined
Near-secret outposts Tucked within
The Spirit halts and listens for what outleaps
And whatever else...
Saying, "This time I mean it. This time I will"
Yet the light of the bright world dies.
How many cycles of moonless nights must I endure?
They never say good-night
And all the creatures mourn
And the shadows eat the moon.
The sky was once so close
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.
Whisper to me some beautiful secret...
Am I, by being dead, immortal; Can ghosts die?
Why ask?
It is all I ask.
A cento is a poem made up of other peoples poems. If you'd like to see the titles and authors these lines came from, ask.