Coyote

My barn having burned to the ground, I can now see the moon.

-Mizuta Masahide

Out in the rocky sands of Arizona’s Sonoran Desert, among the towering saguaro cactus and ancient skies, a coyote — nature’s trickster — stole my boot…and my heart.

I wandered one night into the desert to seek out this trickster and take back the left boot which was rightfully mine, and after much roaming and searching, I finally saw him in the distance.

There he sat, majestic and assured, unshakable and resolute. His beautiful face glowed in the silver light of the moon. But there was no boot to be found. I stood and gazed upon him, and he sat, unmoving, for some time. I felt the wildness in him, the untameable eternity which lies beneath all things.

Finally, he cocked back his head and let out a great howl. The silence which hung behind the desert pulled his voice through its emptiness, and it rang in my ears like the pure and innocent cry of a newborn babe, magnetizing me, captivating me, urging me onward. 

I barely had time to savor this voice, rich with timelessness, before the trickster ran onward, pausing to look back after thirty or so strides and invite a chase. I obliged, and followed him into the night.

After some time, he stopped once again and sat. I stood silently, watching, falling in love with his freedom, with the raw and boorish manner of him, with the truth that sang out in his voice. How I yearned to hear him howl, to feel the voice of the All which shone bright through the lovely, piercing sound. 

He cocked back his head as though to howl and my anticipation rose as I waited to hear his cries. Just as the howl was about to depart from his beautiful jowls, he looked at me and winked, and, instead, opened his mouth wide for a deep and satisfying yawn. Then, he picked up and ran off once again.

This time, I hesitated. I looked back towards the path which had led me here, the path which led back to the comfort of home and everything I knew. Then I gazed forward into the darkness, towards the trickster, towards the unknown. Once again, he paused and looked back at me, waiting. I looked behind me once more, towards comfort, then forward towards the coyote, his beautiful face shimmering in the moonlight. I took a deep breath and commanded my legs further, deeper into the desert, deeper into uncertainty.

The trickster ran fast this time, and I lost sight of him. I stopped to catch my breath, unsure of which direction to continue. I nervously glanced in every direction for a sign of him, until I no longer knew even which way would lead me back to the comfort of my bed, for even the distant lights of home had faded into blackness. I was alone in the vast darkness, the infinite void. I suddenly noticed the chill of the night air, and I shivered in my aloneness. 

I became crazed with fear, and I could taste the foul sourness of it in my mouth. But I realized that I couldn’t go back, that something in me had changed. I had now heard the coyote’s cries of freedom and was born anew. They awakened in me something which I could nay put back to sleep even if I wanted. No, I could not go back.

So I sat, alone in the dark desert, until finally I mustered the courage to stand and continue the journey on my own. I walked on, slowly at first, with tears rolling down my cheeks, the cold night air enveloping me. But with each step I walked, my fear slowly began to subside. 

Then suddenly I heard a howl in the distance, a strong and glorious howl, singing the magic song of eternity. “Further! Further!” his song beckoned. I furiously spun in circles trying to locate the sound, but the desert played tricks on my ears and I could tell not from which direction it had come. I slumped to the rocky ground in tears once more, longing to be near the coyote but knowing that I could follow him no longer. 

I rose again and continued, and slowly I realized: it was not the coyote which my heart so longingly sought, but the freedom which echoed in his immortal hymns. And slowly I realized: I must journey ever further, utterly alone, to discover that immortal song for myself. 

I walked, and with every track in my wake I gained assuredness and strength in my aloneness. With every footprint left behind me I felt myself falling away, I felt my old way of being melting into the unity of the darkness which surrounded me, until even the coyote’s howl faded from my memory and my grasping. I began to breathe deeply, tasting the sweetness of the desert, the sweetness of my aloneness, on my tongue.

And then hints of approaching dawn began to show their face, light slowly trickling into the air around me. Where I was once surrounded by nothing but shadows and darkness, my eyes now began to capture the deep, beautiful texture of the rocky earth beneath my feet, the brilliant green hues of the wise saguaro cactus, the hardy desert flora and the sleepy nocturnal fauna.

I came upon a large rock and sat down, taking in the sensations around me as the morning desert began to burst with life and color. The sky became painted with streaks of the most delectable pinks and purples, fuchsias and magentas. 

I delighted in the beauty of the sky, beholding it with a child’s eyes…and then I saw it: the moon! The glorious, perfect moon, preparing herself for sleep as her brother sun neared his appearance in the morning sky.

I traced her perfect, round edges with my eyes, and my heart sang out; a song which came from somewhere beyond space and time, a song which came from eternity…an immortal hymn. Rivers flowed warmly from my eyes as this song rang out from my soul and was drunk in by the desert, and I realized that this song which poured from my heart was merely one small part of the desert’s immortal symphony. 

And then I heard it…the coyote’s triumphant howl trumpeting out above the desert’s music like a concerto soloist accompanied by his orchestra. I turned and saw him, howling at the moon, his song singing the praises and glory of the moon, the glory of eternity. He looked at me, with his beautiful smiling eyes, as if to say “look at the moon…isn’t it wonderful?” but he needed no words. I now understood: he had been pointing me to the moon the whole time.

He continued to howl, and his songs no longer sparked a pang of longing in my heart for the eternal, but rather brought forth a chalice into which my own heart’s freedom song was poured, where it melded and merged with his. There we sat, together in our aloneness, admiring the moon as the immortal orchestra played its eternal song. 

My eyes then fell to the ground, and there, beside the trickster, sat my boot.