Saturday, January 21, 2017

THIS POEM IS A WILD WOMAN


This wonderful picture of Wild Woman
was created for me by Ellen Wilson of Ella's Edge


This poem is a wild woman,
knocking down invisible inner walls,
the better to observe the sky of mind.
This poem is agitated,
the inner wild a climate of unrest
when too far away from the untamed places.
Attuned to the call of the Raven,
the howl of the wolf,
this town full of monster trucks and logging rigs
assaults her senses, she feeling
as alien as a cougar
inexplicably materializing
on a sidewalk in the middle
of this grey little industry town.

Where is her soul’s home?
Deep, deep, in the wild places
where only the creatures live.
Sorceress of the midnight moon,
follower of the shaman’s path,
she drums a primal beat
that speaks “Home! Home!”
with a stick carved from her breastbone,
chants incantations to earth, air, water, fire,
prays her spirit guides will lead her well,
back to the ocean’s roar and the forest’s
sacred, hidden trails.

While waiting, Wild Woman
makes her escape in a poem:
sings to the trees, communes
with restless spirits, ululates with owls,
flies up and away over the mountain pass
every morning, every eventide,
to where the wild things are,
always and forever, forever and always,
a lover of rainforest and ocean-song,
she knows where she belongs.

Confined, her spirit finds no rest
away from her soul’s home.
Wild Woman restlessly circles and turns,
within the inner landscape,
like a too-large dog circling a too-small bed,
trying to make what does not fit, fit,
too tight the wrappings that keep her
from flying free,
for she has always been a seeker,
now hoping to find, one last time,
what has for so long been sought.


This was written in May 2016, and has not been seen by many eyeballs. I happened upon it today, and it reminded me that when one hangs onto a dream with determination, it can come true. In my lifetime, not just once, but twice. I am blessed. 

Shared with the Poetry Pantry at Poets United, where there is always good reading on a Sunday morning. See you there!


21 comments:

  1. ". . . within the inner landscape,
    like a too-large dog circling a too-small bed,
    trying to make what does not fit, fit . . ."

    Oh my goodness, in the thick of this poem's magnificent images!

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  2. "with a stick carved from her breastbone"

    The beauty, the magic, the breathtaking emotion... I love everything about this poem, Sherry. The way it sings inside my bones, the way it smells of soil and leaves, the way it beats like living blood.

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  3. A thrilling poem! (And I love the Wild Woman image too.)

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  4. Nature is calling to you... and you answer so well. Thank you for this song.

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  5. Wild Woman restlessly circles and turns,
    within the inner landscape,
    like a too-large dog circling a too-small bed,
    trying to make what does not fit, fit..

    I love this image, Sherry! It is so accurate a description and made me smile.

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  6. "knocking down invisible inner walls,
    the better to observe the sky of mind."

    Luv how in-tuned and perceptive Wild Woman is

    Happy Sunday Sherry, im glad you dropped in at my Sunday Standard today

    much love...

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  7. I really like that image of making things fit, no matter what.

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  8. Goodness!! This is incredibly penned Sherry!!❤️ My new favorite!!❤️

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  9. The image of the large dog circling his too small bed was especially apt for this... and a day like this it feels just right.

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  10. Yay! This is so good. :)

    This is my favorite:
    "This poem is agitated,
    the inner wild a climate of unrest
    when too far away from the untamed places.
    Attuned to the call of the Raven"

    And these:
    "Sorceress of the midnight moon"
    "for she has always been a seeker"

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  11. I love the to large dog circling a to small bed - one feeling so out of place in world that no longer understand Wild...bkm

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  12. Sadly the older we become the harder it is to fit in this world. What is most beautiful for us whether it be seas, lakes and rivers or the wild birds, animals and insects whether in forests, deserts or even in our own gardens everything seems to be under threat and our tears mean nothing to that beast profit, rampaging thoughout the Earth.

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  13. Ok now I want to escape into a poem too..what an exquisite thought Sherry,

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  14. Magnificent writing, Sherry! You have articulated, with such eloquence, the pain of all caged beings (literally and metaphorically caged) that were born to live free. So very moving and powerful!

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  15. I think I remember reading this before and I love it even more Sherry. Could be read many ways, literal and as a metaphor. Each one of us has a spot to embrace in this world, no matter how small or big that spot is

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  16. Fairly certain we are coming from the same place today. Hats off to you my wild friend,

    Elizabeth

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  17. To survive one has to make things fit...work around things and never give up on a dream.

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  18. I love the sky of mind - and the idea of being lost in a poem.. perhaps that is where we find ourselves - in the words..and the sky.. and so we name ourselves and you are the bluest sky!

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  19. Love that picture! I am with you Sherry and when I lay myself down, someday, I hope I end up with the things I love and got cheated out of in this life.

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  20. The picture explains all when you read.
    ZQ

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I so appreciate you taking the time to read and comment.
Thank you so much. I will be over to see you soon!