The Lost Ones

Author's note: geode went through an awakening and divorce not unlike my own.. and like me, struggled with the issues of watching years of marriage, hopes, and dreams dissolve...

The Lost Ones

...for geode

Deep in the Valley, far back in the depths of the forest, a large old battle-scarred wolf sits by the bank of the stream that meanders through the secluded glen, deep in thought... A deep sigh shudders through his frame, and he arises... and pads silently into the surrounding trees, unseen, and unheard by the many denizens of the land...

In the stillness of the night, no one sees or hears him, not the watchful owl, nor any of the other nocturnal ones...

...and he emerges silently into an empty meadow, a meadow of deep grass and wildflowers surrounding a placid pond, a pond inhabited by frogs who perceive their watery home as the entire world... ...a meadow full of memories, a meadow where once a battle raged, and the scars of that battle have been healed by overgrowth... ...but the memories still live...

The old grizzled Wolf silently approaches the pond, and drinks of the cool waters unseen by the frogs... and looks up at the full moon, remembering another night, a night of terror, fear, battle, and a precious lost child... and a single tear trickles down his cheek...

The old one moves unseen, a grey and silver ghost... and sniffs, sighing, an area of the meadow... and the child's scent still lingers... hints of warm laughter, peace, and the hugs of the little one's arms... a powerful shudder racks his frame... and he leaves the meadow, padding silently towards the mountains, ears down, tail low...

Hours later, the old wolf emerges from the timberline, climbing ever higher, the silvery moonlight affording only momentary glimpses of his silent form... were there anyone to see...

...and he crests the mountain top, facing the arctic wasteland that surrounds the valley... and pads quietly, slowly to a wind-swept snow-covered ridge... where once he stood, side by side, with a Lady and the Little Lady... ...their hands wrapped in his fur... and the tears flow freely, freezing, scintillating in the moonlight...

Another shudder wracks his frame, and he sinks belly-down into the drifting snow... for he knows the nightmares holding the Lady are not ones he can combat as before... for he had tried, and succeeded only in driving her further into the pain... succeeded only in adding to her pain and agony... ...all too late, he realized what he could have done... how he could have given her the strength and support she needed to beat the nightmares... a battle she needed to fight on her own.... but that he tried to fight for her.. ...all too late, he realizes what he could have done... but failed to do...

He had tried, and failed... and the Lady and the Little Lady are gone, lost in a world of pain and suffering he can not reach... ...and he fears that he has lost her forever...

...and he lifts his head to the barren, icy steel-starred sky, and mournfully howls... alone on the ridge...

March 14, 1994