Where Spirit Meets Instinct

In the quiet space between heartbeat and breath,
she remembers.

One half born of earth,
the other of moonlight and fur.

No longer two —
they breathe as one.

Her softness is not weakness;
it is the silence before the storm,
the calm within the howl.

His gaze holds the wild,
the knowing that needs no words.

Together they are the bridge —
between worlds,
between past and becoming.

Where spirit meets instinct,
she stands whole.
A whisper of starlight,
a pulse of life.
The wolf and the woman,
eternally one.