There it stood before me
A mighty, strong, dog’s ancestor
It’s touch, like a soft breeze caressing tender skin,
It’s voice, like a battle cry,
Yet beautiful, and perfect in its making.

There it stood before me,
Radiating innocence, that passion fill,
From beyond the far trees,
Where it’s home befell,
Running free among the reeds,
upon this hollowed ground.

There it stood before me,
I knew that stay I could not,
For soiled ground is that which man has tread,
No way in Heaven could I defile its sacredness,
To please my aching heart.

There it stood before me,
And with sorrowful heart I turned,
To leave that thing pure and true,
That Wolf, far far behind,
With only it’s memory to fill my empty shell.