Somewhere in the deepest recesses of her subconscious,
in the most profound, obscure, shadowy places
where thought is not even a mist, not even a nothing,
there resides her instinct -
raw, savage, ferocious, caged
the way it is in us.
Attentively, she listens to its growl
as it pushes, claws attempting escape.
Intuitively she connects,
sees truth undeniable.
The whole world lives in her.
She loves
but she is wise,
though she can't explain her gift,
safely she facilitates
its release.
(Submitted to Dverse Poets Open Link Night.)
My friend Mary, who's never had a lesson in drawing or painting, created this mural on her backyard walls. When I saw it, my heart leaped. Her love of animals and nature was in the air, palpable, so real. What a gift she has, and what a gift she is.
