Sitting by
myself
Feeling the strangeness of my
being
Trying to find the edges of the
emptiness
Looking to define and understand

void

·

There is nothing but every
possibility
Gaping and cavernous
mysteries
Likes and dislikes and loves
and
love me no mores –

but

·

I’ve grown fond of this little
girl
She runs wild through my
forests
She sings to me and crys for
life
How ever little, she seeks to

rejoice

·

She has twigs and leaves in her
hair
Dirt rubbed accross her face with
sweat
Tears streak down, laugh lines shining
through
She is strong but gentle, jaded yet, still
pure
·
Eyes, just like mine: deep, flaming green
water
Soul, burning true, hot and bright like
fire
Power free to whirl all about her in the
air
Presence grounded and heavy as the
earth
·
Her friends are the creatures, small or
giant
Her lover is all of existence, endless
pleasures
Her mentors are the spirits of wind and
wonder
Her truth is the sound the conch makes

blown –

·

She belongs to no one, especially not
me
But oh, do I cherish this bold rebel
wildling
I vow nothing but to protect her from
cages
I promise only to give my life so she may

live

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