Cliff rises, shear and sharply, up from earth,
O’er glacier lake so still and icy sheen,
whilst whistling winds, faint whisper of new birth,
Alive and teeming, wild, beyond tree-green.
There, Wolf’s demeanor, practiced, hiding girth,
With patience practiced (spy his piercing eyes),
Cajoling, mean, inspiring cringe (not mirth),
His presence poised to pounce; his prey’s demise.
Why heap such fear, it’s surely not his size,
But rather, it’s his cunning, quiet, still,
that lures, entraps; so if we’re called, be wise!
Close and latch the doors and window sills.
He’s awesome, not a blight, he and his kind,
Small miracles live large, beyond our blind.