The Wilding
Hands up, feet in sand,
stray sticks from the nearby
forest in hair, bromeliad
blooming on your dress—
you are done with indoor
complaints, like Whitman
was all those years ago
because it is everyone’s
right to throw away
the canoe & sail on
& you know you contain
a thousand passionflowers
with wavy blue threads
reaching out to lick air
& you know you contain
a million bat flowers
with purpled wings
& whiskers like tentacles
& at night you carry torch
ginger with a fragrant cone
& red leather skirt-petals
& you wake up with hoya-
hair—pink clusters falling
to waist while hummingbirds
feast on the centers.
That’s what you must do,
savor the centers of
everything—
palm/artichoke/cloud/
cat pounce/mountain/
hooded warbler’s weeta-
weeta-weet-tee-o.
Now gleam, briny, burnished
by sun, follow wave back
to shaggy shore
of self.
4 thoughts on "The Wilding"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
What a beautiful piece! I’d love to hear this one read at an open mic with its cadence and rhythm. I love so many lines: “bromeliad/blooming on your dress—” and “& you know you contain/a thousand passionflowers” and all that follows it!
Thank you so much! Glad you liked it.
This is lovely, Taunja. I like the pace set by the stanzas that shrink then grow in length. And the poem talks about “centers” in a work that has such a visual center – the 3-line stanza. (My favorite – stanza 3!)
Thanks, Nancy!