Flight of a hunter

I always imagine her as a wolf, but then i love wolves.

When dappled sunlight wanders
Through bough and ancient tree
Of heartache and lonely wildness
Tamed, but always free,
So she walks with maliced eyes
And so she walks alone
So she walks with heavy heart
One heart of anger prone
What now? She cries
When sun has gone
What now? Comes mocking calls,
When silver wolf cries silver moon
And first frost of winter falls.

When whispered winds come singing
Round brook and bubbling stream
Of long lost loving freedom
Of whispered thoughts and dreams
One cautious head is lifted,
Thoughts drift into world of dreams.
Focus on the winds words
And hear tell of what they have seen
Go now, they murmur through the night
Go where? Is her reply.
To mountain tops and valleys
To rising and setting sun.
But where you go remember
Don’t stop, don’t slow
They’ll find you, they’ll know
Remember this: Their time had come.