Wildness is the ultimate opposite of tameness,
of domesticity. But civilization
can be wild too, or could have been
in its natural state - the wildness of jungles
of forests of sweeping grass veldts, the tangle
of a wilderness, well-ordered in chaos. Wildness
is wild, wilderness
is wilder. I would like
you. Come with me, stray
from the paths trod and paved,
into and through a wildestness.
You and I have been too long alive, living
in not the wildest way. We've grown tame,
we need to remember that underneath our fading marks
and remembered chimes, and other pavlovian cues
of our obedience schooling, there surges this beast
with instincts flaring like nostrils, ready to pounce
with tooth and claw, back arched, eyes raking the world
for miles around. We need to look up at the sky and remember.
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years. Try the RANDOM button to sample the sometimes surprising breadth of quality (and in several Novembers, breathtaking quantity as well), or click the "ANY GOOD" label* for those poems labeled with it. On any poem, old or new, feel free to offer your remarkable insight or critical acumen.
*I haven't yet revisited many pockets and stretches of time to appraise and label the "any goods," so some are missing. Please feel free to point out omissions, or - especially - erroneous inclusions, in comments.