Black Wolf

Dream during my 60th birthday retreat in Glastonbury:

I am gathering prairie plants on my grandmother’s farm, in a field near the gold-red gravel road that is the entrance to the acreage. Facing away from the road, I spy a black wolf moving through the tall grass to my left, perhaps thirty feet away.

Carefully, I turn toward the road, crossing over it and walking quietly down into the cool, shallow ditch. Hoping that the wolf will not notice me.

But he has. He runs rapidly across the road and leaps for my jugular. I grab him by his teeth, my right hand on his uppers and my left on his lowers, pulling his jaw apart with great strength. My power is equal to his, if not greater.

Day notes:

The tarot card I pulled for my journey was Strength, which often shows an Empress/May Queen holding open a lion’s jaw.