She pads her way
Surefooted and steady
To the remote mountainous apogee
That is her ultimate goal.
Gratefully she ignores
Shadowy attempts to vex her resolve
For her path is radiated
By the full moon
Head held high, keen nose questing
The subtle clues carried by the wind
She pauses and stares
Over the land spread below
She has no need to seek redemption
From the sophists and global alarmists
For her essence is one of strength
And her intuition born of wisdom.
Standing proud on four furry pillars
She lifts her head towards the moon
And from her throat pours forth
The ancient veneration of her kind
AAAaaaAAAARRROOOOOOOOooooOOOOOOO!
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© L. Kupfer
