The Full Moon

The young lass sat in solitude,
Upon a rock, in the thick woods,
Waiting, waiting for the lily o’ the night
To make her appearance ‘midst the stars.
Waiting, waiting for the full moon.

And she came in all her glory,
And the clouds parted as in awe.
The maiden saw, and she laughed,
And raised the flute to her lips.

And as the first haunting note poured forth,
They came.
Their eyes gleaming out of the darkness
Their paws making not a sound.
Wolves.
Rejoicing at the sight of the full moon.

The melody flooded the clearing,
As did the moonlight.
Silver fur, sparkling jaws.
And then, a howl.

It rent the night.
The melody, shattered,
Into a thousand silver shards.
And then, silence.

As one, they leapt and bounded
Into the sheer darkness.
Bid their adieus to the lily of the night
And slipped back into the shadows.      
                                  
But those who left were one more
Than those who came
And the solitary lass
Was to be seen again
Only on the brightest of nights.

Waiting, waiting,
For the full moon.
-Anugraha Venugopal

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