You Call Me to Wild Places

You Call Me To Wild Places

You call me to wild places,
of gnarly, twisted roots,
where curly telephone-wire vines reach and grab a neighboring trunk;
And so much life is found in a crag.

You call me to wild places,
where only the smallest creatures see the ripples they cause from under the surface of hidden bodies of ethereal, blue-green water
reflecting off the brightest chartreuse moss banks I’ve ever seen.

You call me to wild places,
of displays of glorious velvety petals,
adorned with sparkling water-diamonds
that only the resident dragonflies will ever see and taste,
as they buzz wide-eyed and free among this living masterpiece -

this wild and familiar place they call home.

You call me to wild places
Where no path exists besides the meandering ones

from the leaf cutters who always know their way,
And no feet have padded through this forest floor,

except those who know this place as home.

You call me to wild places,

where over the hollowed bamboo, wind passes and whistles a melody,
and my senses are never more alive and alert,

and the one thing I am sure of is that only more wild exists right around the corner,

as my mind sees chaos and tries to make sense of it all.

You call me to wild places,

in unfamiliar spaces my mind can’t quell,

because you know it’s where and when I can receive

mysteries you are ready to reveal to me.

You call me to wild places,

To remind me that as unruly, untamed and filled with chaos as it all appears to me,
this is perfect order and perfect beauty to you;
And everything here is perfectly yours

and every living creature is perfectly cared for.

You call me to wild places

Because here, I am aware that as alone and unprepared as I feel,
I am far from being alone

and all I need, you have already given me.