FOLD 2023 Festival Program

WOLF AND CUB

BY BOBBIE KUMAR I am the cub, small and fragile.

Nestled in the snowy mountains, wild and untamed.

With my mother, the wolf, by my side.

We roam the frozen tundra, searching for our next meal.

The winds howl and the snow falls, covering our tracks.

But my mother’s senses are sharp, she knows the way.

She teaches me the secrets of survival, how to hunt and how to hide. I watch her every move, eager to learn.

We huddle close for warmth, sharing our body heat.

The frigid air bites at our noses, but we don’t mind.

We are strong, we are resilient, we are survivors.

We are a pack, my mother and I, bonded by blood and love.

We rely on each other, we protect each other.

We are one, united against the cold and the dark.

I am the cub, but I am growing, learning to stand on my own.

I know that one day, I will have to leave my mother’s side.

But until then, I am grateful for her guidance, her love.

And I will always carry her wisdom with me, as I venture out into the world.

For my mother is the wolf, fierce and majestic.

She has taught me all that I need to know.

To thrive and to survive, in the snowy mountains and beyond.

I am her cub, and I am proud.

As the days go by, we roam the snowy mountains, seeking shelter and sustenance.

The world is harsh and unforgiving, but we face it head on.

We hunt and we gather, we scavenge and we scavenge.

Whatever it takes to keep ourselves alive.

But there are moments of beauty too, amidst the cold and the struggle.

The northern lights dance in the sky, painting the night with ribbons of colour.

The snow-covered trees sparkle in the sunlight, like diamonds on a winter’s day.

And the wolves howl, their voices echoing across the landscape.

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