the wild place

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Ashlyn Korpak

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the wild place

the wild place never sleeps

the place of god’s mountains, the angel’s caverns, the sun’s fields, and the moon’s rivers

the place of the single-celled — and the complex

the place where something stronger than governments, stronger than kings, rules supreme: nature

life is defined in this wild place — survival too

in this achromatic symphony,

life exists in the cacophony of movement in euphonic harmony

from the tips of the tallest tree to the deepest root

each autonomous organism slips seamlessly into the wild’s woven web

even the land is alive here 

it pulses steadily beneath the feet of those who love it

beneath the feet of those who don’t, it hibernates

but does not die

for you can’t kill life itself

and here i sit — on the edge of the wild place

my boots on the edge, the lifeblood flowing beneath me,

the call of the wild in my heart

behind me, one world — in front of me, another

the wild place beckons

the living land lets out a tender tenor bellow of might that moves the ground beneath me

and it summons me —

this wild place that never sleeps, 

this place that is free, nature’s domain, where life presides as final judge,

each organism its own instrument in the symphony

calls for me to play 

yet, here i stand.