When you love a wild thing
your heart becomes wild too.
You gallop together joyously
along deserted beaches
to the roar of the waves
with an exultant song
of freedom in your heart.
You track through old growth forests,
padding gently on the mossy floor,
alert for other critters
in the bush.
You walk the beach
to the moo of Lennard's Light,
in fog so thick that others' voices
are disembodied spirits
that emerge, startled and laughing,
when you get close.
When you love a wild thing,
your heart soars with eagles
and is tethered to the land
only by love.
When you love a wild thing,
the bond of devotion
runs deeper than any human
you have ever encountered
was capable of.
And when you lose a wild thing,
your heart resists
its return to
being tame.
being tame.
I am revisiting a couple of old poems, written for my beloved Pup, for my prompt this week at What's Going On - It's Raining Cats and Dogs - where we are sharing poems about our furry loved ones or spirit animals.
ah, Pup. wild love is the best, isn't it?
ReplyDeleteI absolutely love that last line... stunning and true...
ReplyDeleteBeautifully expressed - love the wild ones...
ReplyDelete