My kind have been here longer than most.
We are warriors,
Nobility by deed.
Worshipped for our beauty and strength,
I’ve been painted on the wall
And sit at the feet of Hecate
As the keeper of the crossroads.
The scars that mar my body
Sing of my victories,
Shining through my coat like brushstrokes
As my feet thunder against the ground.
I feel the power of the earth
And draw it up through my feet into my soul until
I am alive
My eyes pinpoint a hare
And I curl up in anticipation.
The power of the earth surges through me with every step,
Rolling off like waves of light in the north.
The hare runs fast,
But I am faster.
Other kinds may give up easily on this hunt,
But I enjoy the chase,
And the thrill of the challenge pulses through my veins.
Soon, I have overtaken the hare.
It wasn’t easy,
But I succeeded and proudly hold what others have sought after
And failed to obtain.
The hare is mine,
It becomes a part of me.
I am power.
I am respect.
I am intelligence.
And I am success.