It’s not the essence of your ancestors ,
It’s not how you tell a tale,
Who you are is not quanitative,
It is qualitative,
It might be glimsed in a remembered sligh smile of your best friend,
Your mom,
The bringer of you into life,
The reason for your first breath,
Ita not from your dad,
For me,
A writer second,
A poet first,
A lover of women and short furry people,
It,
Life stirs,
The essence of you, like DNA, is at creation ,
I feel joy,
Holding an infant animal breathing is first breathe,
I feel life if a life form displays dead eyes,
All life clings to earth and bring one with it,
All those in my care are being set on the path if yet another day journey,
Courioisity pulls me
Amazes me with every turn,
Like a big cat onowing what is in a bag still I want to prowl around in all the corners thagt is who this poet is,
Val Whitewolf 