My Wild

james dean

There has always been something

about the rebellious streak

that I’ve been drawn to.

The James Dean types-

popped collars

and carefree spirits.

 

I suppose that is why

I am drawn to rivers-

that run wild,

and free,

and refuse to stop flowing.

 

Why I love getting lost in the woods-

away from society,

away from the noise,

and pollution-

of mouths

and factories.

 

I feel a connection-

to the stars,

and souls I have never met.

A longing-

to bathe in the moonlight,

and run like the wolves

on top of mountains.

 

I find pieces of myself

in the birds that fly above the trees,

in the wildflowers,

and in the wind.

 

I am that river-

running wild,

and free,

and refusing to settle.

 

I am the wolf

howling at the moon

and making the forest my home.

 

I am as wild as the flowers

that grow in the moss

beneath the trees.

 

And if you close your eyes,

you can feel me in the wind.

 

Kristian L. Weigman

This entry was posted in Favorites, Poetry, This Is Me and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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