PagesintheDark

The forest has a way to teach its own kind to survive 

to desperately protect the most raw parts of themselves

to show teeth

not from anger

but from trauma that has been cut and engraved into unhealed scars on their skin. 

There was a presence

in the underbrush. 

I could see him move

coated with weighted layers of fur.

He wore it mysteriously

like a mask. 

I watched him carefully from a distance. 

Not out of fear

but because I value the wide space between a thorn and bloom. 

He was not cruel. 

He was cautious.

The kind that won’t mistake gentleness for innocence.

He trusted only a few

but protected his pact with suppressed intensity.

It was with him I realized

not all wolves howl.

Some just watch

from the darkest places

and have made the choice to not chase. 

He will wait

tirelessly

until someone can understand the tongue of the forest

calmly sit beside him 

and not be afraid.