The mystical realm chooses the way it wants to offer lessons of high importance. It is usually up to us to figure out the meaning of such lessons. One of our psychics enjoys expressing her dreams or visions in poetry style. Here is another another one of hers:
It was a divine call
In the cold wilderness, one day a wind blew in
It was a divine call, to all who could hear it
Feral wolves of the south, feral wolves of the north
Vicious wolves of the east, vicious wolves of the west
All rejoiced in wonder, at such a holy call
In pack they all traveled, across great lands and seas
To claim their divine rights, no matter the hardship
They robbed, they killed, they bound, as it was fair to do
As to them they deserved, every bite near and far
‘Cause they were powerful, stronger and more refined
And the divine observed, listened and monitored
No other animal, was free to roam around
Deer, elks, moose, bison, bellowed, hollered and bawled
They were heard but not heard, they were seen but not seen
For they were simply pawns, in a true scheme for change
As time slowly went by, the wolves felt empowered
No harm was done to them, no matter their fierce thirst
But unbeknownst to them, time is impermanent
It sways, it rolls, it flips, and thus can be propelled
Wolves come in many hues, and can justly be swapped
And once again the wind, started blowing, blowing….