Of the Wild

Late summer air encloses her soul
and the ground beneath her nakedness
yields to her touch, soft with recent rain.
The cliff reaches above the canopy,
her climb is perilous but she is light,
one with life as it whispers in her ear.
Echoed across the plateau, her heart beats.
She runs through the field, the past locked away.
The space is closed and their hearts synchronize.
Clouds drift overhead, the sun shines,
and free of their bodies, their soul formless,
a dance of life, of truth, ensues.
When wakefulness steals her away,
imprisoned in a body once more,
her mind is heavy but her spirit is flying.
Life beckons for her, she soars just beyond
as she strives to become doubtless
so paradise can remain untainted.

 

Her skin is chilled by the autumn air
yet the cold earns only bumps on her flesh,
her attention all for surviving another day.
Trees are bare, their leaves blanket the ground,
and she ghosts through the flaming colors,
as a voice is carried by the intimate wind.
Belonging to the pulsing in the air,
it sings, imbued with meaning.
A kaleidoscope of color in her pupil,
every fiber of truth a scent in the wind,
nature pressed close, pretending to love.
Life echoes itself in the veins of the world.
Lies echo in towers and civilized smog
and her ears hurt when tuned in.

 

In the distance a crow caws, welcoming the night
and the night's lady arcs across the sky,
lighting a world difficult to not fear.
She runs, basking in the lunar glow.
The creatures are unalarmed in her passing,
about her essence there is no danger,
she is beyond their plane of existence
as she leaps and bounds, avoiding the obstacles.
Her eyes stare ever forward, aglow with life,
taking in the reunion with her Self,
and letting the sorrow of their past fade.
She runs on, alive with her freedom,
following the lady’s arc across the sky.

 

In the cold and forlorn cement forest
a brief breath of mountain air called to her.
Amid the brick towers and fiberglass cars
she was no longer engulfed by uncertainty.
The call of the wild was clear as day
as those blue eyes touched her soul.
No plane overhead could make her falter.

 

Those storming blue eyes claimed her.

 

Those blue eyes would close, hide further truths.
But she would keep the strength they had created,
keep what truth they had left ingrained
in the mazes of her mind and traps of her subconscious.
Through the mazes she would travel,
the traps she would knowingly spring,
seeking those partial truths left behind
so her quest for life’s answer
might meet her beneath the sparkling night sky,
giving her entrance into a land free of lie’s taint.

 

In the cold embrace of old winter’s snow,
silently basking in the sun’s return,
or gliding with the wind as the fiery leaves do,
she would recall those bottomless blue eyes
and feel a tremor in the structure of her soul.
Her spirit’s condition was constant agony,
but diligent its unconditional fellowship.

The summer air collects on her skin
mingling with the glistening sweat,
there’s no discerning their differences.
The past follows her every step,
a constant threat towards losing now,
but fear doesn’t hold her back
any more than chains long since rusted,
no more than dirt filling the holes her past created,
while she was entranced by the glass towers
and those blue eyes that reflected her soul.

Author's Note

The title comes from a short of mine that was created by using the same muse. I'm not going to be posting the short, though.

Reviews

[Nicole]

This was amazing.
I especially love the end, and I love how it transitions.
There were no spelling errors that caught my eye...and uhm. That was great.
Enough of being serious, what I really meant to say was:
Way to write! I love this. xD