It happened again last night. In the strained distortion between 4 and 5am, wakefulness seized me and wouldn’t let go.  A predator had hold of me.  Worry, mystified and seasoned by night, turned to panic.  The wolf inside fed on her prey.

But wild fear woke me before I could be consumed.  Instinct knows consciousness is the only power that can conquer the primitive.  Wakefulness worked against the wolf, but she had already fed enough on my sleep.

It was no use.  I got up, felt my way to the bathroom, and flipped on the light.  My eyes strained against the glare.  A friendly meow greeted me in the blindness of the hall, the cat on her conscientious patrol of the living room.  Predators were loose in the house, including the attic of my mind.

But last night when I turned off the light and got back into bed, I must’ve negotiated something with the mysterious wolf.  The moon was only half full.  An evenness existed between time and space.  The irrational balanced the rational.  Sleep spilled over into wakefulness and then receded into sleep.  In the pull between them, fear and reason found common ground.  And today is like a morning after a storm, an unlikely aftermath of clarity and calm.

 The wolf seems to have forced a peace.  I thought she’d hunted me down in the vulnerable hours because she was ravenous and wanted to feed on my worries.  But I was wrong.

We are both drawn by primitive forces.  No matter how tame my human life appears to be, my wolf reminds me I am governed by the moon and the terror of the hunt.  In the light of day, it seems obvious.  She only wanted to rouse me, so together we could howl.

-Radiance Writer

May 19, 2021