The moon rises,

a quiet blanket
over a dark forest.
No light pierces through
Green glimmering treetops

No light, lights the eyes
of the animals.
Still,
they stare, searching, seeking.
in the darkness peering
waiting.

The wind winds through
but no scent reaches their noses.
And yet they sniff searching still.

No sign has touched them
and yet they smell and seek.
Beyond the forest
knowing from inside
from their noses and eyes
that something is,
waiting.

A subtle stirring
on the rim of his nose
a wolf’s eyes rise
to see just beyond
the horizon of the forest
to understand the depths of his soul.

Muscles locked
Motionless he stares
eyes fixed just beyond.
Stretch to the furthest reaches
glaring to see
so that he may understand
what lies beneath.

He knows and yet doesn’t
sees from himself,
beyond his existence
the forest contains everything
swirling around him
in stormy distortion
nothing is real
the forest a phantom
his nose cannot smell.
and his eyes cannot see
the storm is rising
the inconsistency
between life and expectations
blinds him and deafens him
pierced only 
by the pounding heartbeat of his passions.

That which is real is wrong
and what’s right is beyond
his grasp of the world.
The forest is false
the light lies beyond
and the smell that his nose desires
lingers outside the trees.

And his legs tamp down
to capture
the image
that spreads like a dream
rises like smoke
from the flames of desires
blinds him
dancing across his eyes
the tantalizing image beyond the forest.
lies beneath his pounding heart.