Wild


We are made of dreams and matter.

We form to the music of our mother’s heartbeat,

Surrounded by whispers of the secrets of the Universe,

A physical body slowly stitched to our soul.


We arrive, made of flesh and water,

Met by Life with lungsful of air,

Cut from our Source and still connected.

We look into the eyes around us-

Why wouldn’t we? It’s what we’ve come for.

We look into their souls and hearts.

They recognize us and they weep.

We have launched from Everything to Here.


We are vast,

Full of passion.

Curious.

We move and we strive to share what we know,

All that we brought with us.

We see magic.

We stop to feel,

to honor our Holy,

To experience awe,

To catch raindrops,

To feel the texture of both sides of a leaf,

To listen to moving water,

To appreciate the dancing wind on our cheeks,

In our hair,

To gaze on the shape of a cloud without ever making it understandable Here.


Our savoring of All That Is is a burden.

It delays the carpool,

Makes a racket in restaurants,

Is NOT sensible,

Is NOT practical,

Does not fit on a college application,

Does not fill the 529 or 401K,

Does not earn high marks.

It is unwieldy. Awkward. Embarrassing. Inappropriate.


Having been corralled, harnessed,

Having been broken of our wildness,

Having learned to be quiet, considerate, polite, ladylike, humble, modest, Godly,

Having been punished, polished, formed, trained,

We save the Wild, our original hope and light, for dreams.

We let her whisper to our hearts

But we dare not speak of her.

We are good.

We are easy.

We are manageable.


And then,

We are broken by a loss, by a death, by some pain that makes it clear that

Good and Easy and Manageable have not been enough,

That Good and Easy and Manageable have not prepared us for

All That is Bigger,

All That Refuses to Be Contained.


And Wild arrives,

Windswept and unconcerned with manners,

Hand-in-hand with her sisters, Hope, Magic and Curiosity.

And they sing us to sleep,

They fortify our dreams with connection.

And they shine their torches on feral Pain, crouching in a dark corner.

And they welcome Pain into their circle,

Into our wholeness.


And we will not go back.

 

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