Wild Child

I was a wild child,

wandering the hills,

breathing in the scent

of sage and Ponderosa pine,

scuffing up the red earth,

drinking from irrigation trestles,

dreaming under
 puffy-cloud blue sky.

Once I wandered
up and over a hill,
singing,
past a herd of cows,

and they began to follow me

with their clumping hooves,

me going faster down the hill,

with them hastening behind me.

My life has been a journey

from desert to forest trail,

from lake to sea.

It has been a journey from

dog to dog, 

and one black wolf,

each accompanying me

with attentive eye and

warm, devoted heart.

Now, dogless, nearing

the end of my pilgrimage,

I am friend of all creatures,

Grandma of all dogs.

One came to me yesterday

at the beach, with timid eye.

She laid her treasure - her orange ball -

invitingly at my feet

for me to throw.
I did.

She would have followed me home,

but I had to tell her "Go.

Go to your person."

Sigh.

This life brings us so much:

wonders, nature, experiences,

memories, love,

an excess of delights.

It takes, as well.

Loss is the rent we pay

for being here.

But, before we lose,

we have.
And soon........
along comes
another gift,
another wonder.

I live in

endless gratitude

for it all.

for Susan's prompt at Midweek Motif: Journey