Friday, November 28, 2014

The Wild

Although I've lived most of my life in one city or another, I've always thought of my life as being surrounded by tall, dark forest.

The perimeter of my life left wild.

In childhood, the wild forest was freedom, a place to run where the tether of safety and security trailed lightly behind me. A beloved place whose dark corners held only enchantment, promise, secrets to be ferreted.

As a young adult, the wild forest became overgrown. Childhood tether cut, now thorns rose up, drawing blood when I reached into the darkness. In fear, I counselled myself clear from the wild edges and drew a tighter circle in order to be protected from my childish illusions. Taught myself that terrible things happen in wild places.

In my striped down adult years, life didn't venture past the new thin line I'd drawn so far in from the dark wild. Quiet. Dutiful. Faithful. Safe.

And yet.

In the barren of my tiny circle the wild came for me.

Took me up.

Shook all that could be shaken.

It was then I made myself look the dark forest in the eye. Fearsome wild stared into me. It spoke:

Come back.


Come back.

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