The Wolf's Prayer

Forgive me as
I sniff you out,
and snuff you out
as a wind against a
candle-flame.

I was born to love
and to feel, as you,
as all the animals of
the pasture or wood, but
my love for my cubs exceeds

my love for your bleating reed.
So as my jaws clamp round
your windpipe and you turn
from afternoon to midnight,
I pray: don't bask in twilight.

God of all things,
take this lamb.
Remove its pain,
let the wound not fester:
let me swallow my claim.

I love you, Lamb:
I need you. I hope my
hunger feeds you: I'd be
lost without you, only wolfish
with you; I shall never doubt you.

That's why clouds bathe on high in day:
the wolfish wind blowing its heavenly prey,
in their afternoon cares; in their idle sway.
But hear my prayer, O Lord: take this Lamb
and show it the way.