Howl.

HOWL_ANDREABALT

{Full moon over the Seine, Pont Alexandre III, Paris – AB}

 

Hey Wolf, who are you howling for?

Howl for the longing trapped beneath our bones,
for all the shaking we have yet to do,
for all these crying wolves still hiding in our chest,
the years of sinking sand we carry
in our shoes.
Howl for this too.

 

Howl for the homeless and the home within,
the aching truth in us that tries to leak
its light through eyes too tired to believe,
and all our fearless stories still unwritten,
bleeding their way through someone else’s veins,
in angry ink.
Howl for them too.

 

Howl for the darkness to become a shivering preamble
of the dawn, and not the shadows we mistook as things,
or white cold lies we use to hush ourselves to sleep,
but starry nights we paint with hope
a million kisses deep.
Howl for you too.

 

Howl for the fire and the burning ash, and for
the oceans we have yet to be, for flowers grown
among the ruins of what’s lost, and ancient tales
between our crooked lines, still waiting to be told,
not seen.
Howl for us too.

 

Howl for the birds uncaged and howl for those
who never wanted wings, for all the missing warriors
our words won’t save, for hands that are too small
to reach across the void and write these words
directly on your skin, for all our stolen breath
and silver hearts and tired dreams.
Howl for the moon-born and the free.
Howl for the sun-kissed.
Howl for me.

 

{Howl me a river}

 



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Comments

  1. I love!

  2. Maria Font says:

    { howling }

    Yes yes yes and yes!

    Felt.
    Connected.
    Bloomed.

    I love you.

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