It starts with a distant howl after sunset. A lone coyote lets out his song into the night. He is simply calling to his pack, but the poet in me thinks he is saying, “I’m alone! Where are you? I need to get back!”
In the desert blackness is a reply; just as distant of a cry. It’s another member of the pack saying, “I’m over here; hurry and join me.” Shortly the other members of the pack add their voices. In my mind I picture silent padded feet trotting over the rocky desert floor to the meeting place. Each hurried on by the inborn nature to be together. When they meet they are overwhelmed with joy at being together again, and a coyote chorus begins. They sing because they don’t face the world alone.
After a week in the world I make my way to the church and think in a little way I’m like them. I want to see my Christian family and know that I’m not alone in this world; that there are others just like me. When we all arrive there is joy and singing because we are not alone in the night.