Take Me To Where the Wild Things Are

There's that familiar hunger and stirring within me for something mysterious and infinite...a something that I don't even know what it is. A wild yearning rising up deep within myself to run, to slip away past leaves + trees + all human life.

 

To disappear into the forests where the only sound is the quiet humming of Life itself. Away from distractions, rushing + hurrying, from mindless jabber and babble, from the constant presence of others and the crowd of people that conglomerate the world's surface. While I love people + interacting with them, lately I've found myself falling quiet, feeling stretched and tired and as if the smallest smile or natural small talk is so arduous a task that even the attempt is exhausting.

Because sometimes it is good to drop everything, even the thoughts and lists that rattle around in our heads each day, and simply leave...and run into the forest.

I want to slip away. I want to go where the wild things are.

Because there's a shimmer in the air, like the faintest, lightest brush of wind chimes that only we can hear and it's calling to us, beckoning, pulling ever so softly on the strings of our heart that float out to the sky, to the furthest stream, to the highest mountains that we've only climbed in our dreams. And it's a pull we can't resist, it comes from both without and deepest within. It whispers of adventure and dizzying heights and air so fresh and strong that it hurts to breathe in.

Because our hearts are the wildest forest, the deepest ocean tumultuous + cold with waves of bitter salt and sweetness...and sometimes we forget. Because we're breathing in the world around us so strong and often that we can't see we're lost, that we're quiet...we're tamed. And we weren't made to be.

So take me to where the wild things are. Where hair blows wild + free in the wind, a whirling mess in sunbeams + trees. Where the world is so quiet and so loud with the sound of life that I can hear myself...where I can breathe.

Be.

Days, months, hours, minutes, years pass but time is different to souls. Souls are like unfolding trees, ever changing + reaching + growing deep, firm roots. Like streams, silver + silent, welling up with promise and life but as somber and sorrowful as the stars on a cold, fierce night. Like winds, never ceasing to unfurl and wind through spires, free and restless forever.

So let me go, let me close my eyes and run away, into the forest where sun + leaves kiss in a sweetness and blur of golden light that spins the world the other way round and takes us away, over seas and thoughts and dreams and plans...just for a moment. Let me go to where the wild things are.

Because I'm a wild one, through and through.