by Rae Harris
The Mortals
Midday—groups gathered in the open air
Sprawling across fields of flowers
Separate and self-contained, they chatter—
The world darkens
The shadows sharpen
It’s cold, so very cold
And the air grows thick with dread
With change
With power
Existence was ending
The sounds of nature falling silent
And the mortals call out as one
As one, they holler their fear
They scream their awe
And they startle the wolves in the sky
The beasts flee, vanquished
The sun slips across its path
And the world keeps turning
The Wolves
Howling, they race across the sky,
Above the storms of the one who would strike them down
They nip at one another’s tail, playful, jubilant
Yipping, without care
Then the sun and moon come between them
Isolated
The wolves howl with sorrow
Mourning the loss of their pack
Sorrow so quickly turns to rage, hatred
So their play shifts to hunt
The hunt
Endless
The prey
Clever
Oh, so clever
But the wolves are ceaseless, relentless
They race and chase and eventually—
They catch
The world darkens
The shadows sharpen
Maws dripping
And the air grows thick with dread
Powerful jaws clamp down
Sharp teeth pierce
Their prey begins to shatter
Existence was ending,
The sounds of nature falling—
The screams
The wolves flinch, tearing away
From the unyielding cry
Terrified and pained, they flee
Their prey wriggles free
And the sun drops to its journey
The wolves howl and the cycle begins again
The Gods
They watched
And they saw the darkness
They heard the cries
Wolves streak across the skies
Savage, feral, and destined
To run for eternity
Always so close
Always racing
Until the very end of the world
But not yet
Not soon
The screams of the mortals splitting the air
For as long as the mortals unite,
The gods will stay their hand
Watching, waiting
For the time of desolation
And lost hope
Not yet
Not soon
The wolves keep racing,
The mortals keep praying,
And the gods watch.