The Stalker


Under the palpable calling of the moon, the shaman wakes.

Shapeshifting hunter fueled by a quiet ferocity and ancient memory;

moving through the mangrove forest, recalling the crossing of a bridge

once made of land. The embodiment of raw nature, driven by a power

as inborn as black rosettes on a tawny pelt.  Climbing, crawling, swimming,

by any means necessary; tracking paths that are lost to the ancestors.