Small Wild Thing

 

I’ve never wanted it so much.

Longing, deep in my bones.

Desire, desire….

Do I dare?

Dare to ruin the delicious,

joyful dream?

The longing wells, wells up,

so close to the surface

and usually retreats, too soon.

But here, now,

it has bubbled up.

Just a few foamy bits

Surfaced,

flat upon this page.

Words written down in the silence

of this space,

With potential,

            possibility,

                        of growing.

A start.

One tiny seed laid carefully

on the cool soil.

The rest of the package

sealed and safe.

Just in case.

 

Joyce Belcher