The Hunt

A smooth mirror throws back the light given by the silent
moon The reflections are held fast by magnets No
movements stir the surface of the lake In the crown of the
giant trees An owl calls to his prey only a scared
flurry in the brush betrays the mouse in his flight
he has no desire to accept this invitation
away in the distance a wolf calls harshly
to his pack even here you can feel the excitement
of the hunt lay your ears on the breast of mother
Earth and listen The rhythm of running feet holds
pace With the quickening of the pulse An orgasm of
life flows through the waiting Contented, in spite of the
death screams the night settles in her clinging darkness
The dawn stirs in her dreaming and sighs and all is
well with the world