"A Song for Coyote" a poem by Fletcher Tucker

Coyote,

squinting in the bright afternoon,

ten feet from the shade

of a broad-limbed

old, valley oak.

We see each other,

and recognize kin.

Or at least I do.

With forward facing eyes,

and warm, red blood.

Hearts that race

as we run.

We both played more

as children,

and grew up on our mother’s milk.

The midday sun

feels good on both our backs,

I can tell by your expression.

But a halo,

or something else shining & holy,

surrounds you.

An emanation

from your pure & wild mind.

We are the same,

more or less.

Cousins at very the least.

But I would crawl,

on hands and knees,

through this tick filled meadow,

to sit in Darshan

beside you,

Coyote.

For just the chance

to bow, and maybe drink,

from the pool you keep so still & clear.

Reflecting sky & tree,

self & universe,

without distortion

or adornment.