Into the Wilds

I began to dream under

the same raw moon

As the tides that bare down

on fragile flesh

the flesh of my forefathers

There’s blood in the apex

of these stones, calling us

to stitch the wounds

of our own callousness and

fleeting desires

 

I wandered into the wilds,

under sand pine prophets

and oaken kings

I lamented on the nature of our

odorous civilisations, our war machines

and dogmas of oppression

 

The egret and ibis heard my prayer

and came to see

the stranger in their midst

A creature of sorrow and

sickness and greed

But I wandered aloud,

my footsteps bringing me

to piles of rubble that once stood

the test of time

and time is now mine

under the stars of my

newfound fortitude,

this reckless keen edge

of awareness budding to life

inside my sleeping bones

 

I was wary once of travellers

of that forgotten golden realm

Longing to hide in the shadows,

a conscious observer

of the night flights of those fighters

The fighters wringing the life out

of the pockets of creation

 

And I stood there watching

while the memories came

to dance about my head

Spiders spinning webs in my hair

to trickle thoughts of liberation

into my brain

 

I thought once of you,

the way your eyes would move

to judge the very fabric that

weaves our flaws together

I set that memory free

and again turned

to the wilds that so

lovingly called me home

 

I followed a deer growing thick

with fetus in her belly,

asked after the hymns

that so wind their way around

and through

beast and tree,

and she told me to listen

 

So I listened to the gathering dusk,

the crickets’ music

transforming my soul

and then I was no longer afraid

of growing old

so I climbed into the crook

of a giant’s sheltering limbs

and I ate nothing but

what I could catch in

trembling hands

 

I sacrificed my self into

the hunt for this wealth

This need to resurrect

what once was a feral heart

I stopped playing prey and

found sanctuary

in the blood of the earth

the blood of reptile skin

and spear pointed teeth

as I became a solitary predator

 

I dug into the midnight soil

seeking a space to sink my roots

to wait and trap any form

any trace of food for my thoughts

I wanted to grow wisdom

I wanted to relearn that

Mother tongue of soil

Muscle and memory

the language of the land’s

savage composition

 

I wandered the forest,

aching to be found among the palmettos

a dying breed of mystic

planting seeds and craving

all things that a human craves

when burning that all to

cinders and ash

 

I buried myself in the darkness

among cypress knees and Spanish moss

Letting nightcrawlers sing me to sleep

I wondered then what it would mean

if I chose to stay

if I chose to let myself forget

to be human for awhile

 

So I tore from myself

small strips of regret

and tied the cloth of those sins

to a dogwood tree

I cried at the wrath of the earth

calling for my explanations

of falling off the edge of this world

So long ago, now, it seems

 

I entered the badlands

of buzzing insects, leeches

and steam

I let myself go back that way again

and found the answer to that riddle:

 

I was never really me.

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