I am the father of wolves,
my wild and beautiful sons.
I am the father of daughters
who have no fathers.
I love them all
but they horrify me
because they wear my face
and must see the world
in their own light.
Terrible winds blow.
Endless rain and snow.
Death walks wide and far
reaching out with great, long arms.
Where are my children?
They run from me on lupine feet
and I cannot protect them.
They run away.

- David Childers