Wild

I am wild.

Wild like a hot sunrise after a lightning storm.

Wild like sweet pea vines.

Wild like jalapeños in raspberry jam.

I like it when there is dirt under my nails and pen ink scrawl on my body.

I like the splash of water that jumps up when I'm washing dishes.

I like the stubborn donkey's slow graze.

I pit my own cherries slowly and messily.

I seek the hot equator sun on my cheeks.

I crave dirt beneath my fingernails.

I am wild.

Wild like the breeze through broad leaf trees.

Wild like a thunderhead across the plain.

Wild like blackberry thorns.

I like it when my hair falls out of place.
I like swimming under an open sky.
I like discords and minors.
I fold over myself in strange yoga positions.
I drink water from the tap.
I desire quiet mornings and laughter filled nights.
I am wild.

I care not for plans,
I am whimsically sweet.
Enough to make your teeth hurt.
I write in cursive with ink covered hands
And read my books to life.
I sing to myself songs of nonsense
With wooden beads wrapped around my wrist.
My belly is swollen
With love, with life, with the future.
I flatten my hands against the floor
Unconcerned with any complications that may arise.
There is only now,
There is only today.
I sink my teeth into simplicity.
Forgotten and forsaken is tradition for innovation.
But is it always better?
Braid the two with a mind to live intentionally.