Wild one can no longer be tamed
Or told to sit quietly in a room.
She wants to laugh hysterically,
and no one is going to have her otherwise.
She will shake, break and roll
with tidal crests
on moon beams as they glide
upon choppy waters.
She screams as she waits and fills
the circle of her room with rain songs,
folk melodies from across
the great divide
about wide rivers she wishes
to flow beside.
She curls into her cave
lets smoke in her hair,
coals glow in her eyes.
She lets earth and water
mold her, shape shift, reform her
that climbs, sticks, hangs
where she wants.
She looks ordinary, sort of
human at least
with forest eyes and lovers hands
alive in her completeness
strong in her sorrow
deep sea diver in the divine
of her own volcanic, world forming
Author: Maressa Fonger
Volunteer Editor: Terry Price / Editor: Renée Picard