Coyote lopes toward ancient moon,
sheltered in numinous light
high on the dense chaparral,
brushed in California coastal sage,
ridgeline glowing pinks and purples.
Alpha-male howls at amber orb.
Its clarifying echoes
soothing validation,
precursor of ancestral gold
coursing crimson through veins
flush now with renewed courage.
This poem gave me a chill up my back, Julie. I hope our local coyote pack stays quiet in the upcoming nights.
Ω
Sweet 🙂
Thanks, Allan!