(04) The Search Begins Poem by J.B. LeBuert

The rain came in torrents as the wet monsoon raged.
The Shewolf pups headed south, that’s what they had gauged;
Drenched to the bone, with a raging river to ford;
They now wanted to cross, without losing their hoard.

They ate what they could, and headed into the flow.
The swift current pushed them on, downstream they would go.
They did yelp to each other, as they sped along.
They wouldn’t get across, if they didn’t stay strong.

The scent that they followed was that of their mother.
At least this was their thought, not any other.
The far side they reached together, as one small band.
They lay down to rest quiet, on the smooth wet sand.

The exertion they spent, stirred their hunger anew.
The leader was now quite rested, so off she flew.
She went into the forest, with food on her mind.
The two smaller Shewolves, followed closely behind.

It took only minutes before prey was soon found.
They hunted as a well-trained team, swift on the ground.
Another fawn was about to be stalked and killed.
The Shewolves need was for their bellies to be filled.

The rain slowed, a resting place, they needed to find.
The day’s journey was over, and had been unkind.
They searched for a small cave, or at least a dry hole.
They split up to search out a dry spot without soul.

As night quickly approached, a mournful cry rang out.
The other Shewolves knew what the wail was about.
She had found the perfect spot, to rest for a day.
The three banded together, to wrestle and play.

As dawn broke, the sky was a myriad of hues.
The storm had passed overnight, they had paid their dues.
They would rest here for at least another whole day,
They would take in the sights, and search for some more prey.

Rested and ready, they will now find their mother.
The search for her won’t be replaced by another.
Each day the search is renewed on needles and pins.
Over and over each long day, The Search Begins.