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Wolf's ChildrenWhen the Creative Spirit left the world he left Wolf with an emptiness he could not leave unfilled. Each animal spirit mourned the loss of the creator in his or her own way, but eventually all turned their thoughts to the joys life had to offer. All except for Wolf. The memory of his father's disappointment nipped at his heels, driving the feet of his soul to pace relentlessly with worry.
He had been selfish. He had been cruel. It was a wonder the other animal spirits could stand to have him in their presence. He felt, though part of him insisted it could not be true, that the ugliness he brought into the world was responsible for driving their father away. The aching feet of his soul prowled the deepest tracks of his mind for answers that would let them rest.
The fondest memory Wolf had of the creator was his reaction to the new coats he made for the animals he looked after. His father merely had to say, "Show me a wolf," and he could lead him to something new and beautiful. No longer
DevotionOn the fifth of November I heard a loud shriek
T'was a cry of despair, a baby mouse squeak
A mountain of angels came down from above
To hear of the racket, their beloved young's love.
An answer was met by a mole in a cape,
The angels did follow by the cloth at his nape.
Blindly the mole, carved in a pace,
Quicker than lightning, by the prod of Light's gates.
All of a sudden, from all sides around
The keeper was tapping on the bridge below ground
Hoping the moat bridge would lower to see
The baby mouse rescued from misery.
Near and far all did come
The termites surrounded,
Sworn by the sun;
A path they did trod,
From North to southeast
To the baby's fine call,
A bunion retreat.
Wrapped in a sock and carried inside
The mice were bewildered, by the aids' absence of pride.
"Come with me dear fellows, you brave souls at heart.
I'll bring you to heaven, the gates are apart."
The blind mole of cape, said "No, I must stay,
For the little one needs me, and the sea bird will slay."
Fight for the
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