A Wolf Prayer

from One Hundred Cranes
by William J. Fitzgerald

Creator God,
    are not my deepest powers damned up? frozen over?
There are times when I feel listless,
    made inert by repetitious days and long winter nights.
I wonder if there is life beyond Monday night football
    or milling at the mall?

It's easy to be simply a spectator of life,
    dazed and dulled.
The consumer society can swallow my soul.
I am programmed to be passionate about
    Bud Lite, little leagues, small advances in the stock market
    and little else.

Life can too easily become a monitor-
   hard drives, soft drives, cathode tubes.
It is to be viewed, reviewed, instantly replayed,
   recorded, canned, put on the shelf.

It is not just cold outside;
   I seem frozen within.
Never so much sex, never so much action -
   up there on the screen -
   and so little passion within.

Let me befriend the wolf within,
   the wild energy of my own life force,
   my zest for life, my alertness of spirit.
Let me make the move,
   shake the springs,
   reawaken my wild dynamism from slumber.

Let me own my own imagination,
    dream a better dream,
    howl at the moon
    and seek my bliss.
Help me to be alert to the direction
     where a prize lies waiting for my prowl.

Let me be passionate about compassion,
     for I shake my trek
     with the human pack.
Like the wolf,
     we are both the hunters,
     and the hunted.

Let me lope with the wolf,
     for life is an adventure,
     and we must make tracks across the snow.