Wild Mind

Wild Mind

Wild mind sings up the sun with the first day of Spring.

Wild mind grows deep, sensuous and slow

with Summer’s high ceremony.

Wild mind plumps as a chestnut

ripening towards Autumn’s harvest,

then is felled and quartered

with Winter’s gray knife

to be plunged and roasted on the fire

that blazes at Winter’s white heart

and release its essence of earnestness

upon the open air.

Walls cannot faze wild mind for long.

She sends the groundswell in a torrent

through cracks between their gray toes;

paints murals in moss on their staring faces;

beards and buries their flat cheeks

with ivy-vine that sleeps

one thousand years before—

like Briar Rose in the fairy tale—

awakening to bright love

and breaking apart the spellblocks

that hold the edifice up

bringing down all the barriers to loving.

Wild mind watches the dark pond

with an unswerving eye.

Sees a blue dragon behind each

darting dragonfly. Overhears

the prophetic hum of a helicopter

in the whir of hummingbird’s wings.

Wild mind sets a place for Death to dine

in the juniper duff from bone plates

and drink libations from skull cups

while the gloaming descends on the world.

And then, when day is done, and the sun’s strength spent,

wild mind yodels down the sun with the coyote choir,

chirps with the chanting crickets

sings full-throated with the nightingale

stirred to soulful song —

and hurls the first few sparks of stars

far into the indigo vault of heaven.