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by Logan Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2185757
Be careful in the great outdoors
Wilderness

Out there in the wilderness,
the badlands beckon, call,
to drown, belay, bewilder us,
through winter, spring and fall

Through the summer, laid out slow,
easy on the plains
So vulnerable in shade set low,
so vulnerable 'tween flames

In cycles endless turning, crossed
'tween darkness and the light
Our guilty pleasures burning, lost
in fires, spent at night

As hungry eyes encroach the camp
afraid to broach the flames
Glistening like oil lamps,
burning through their pain

Blazing brightly through their hunger,
… desire in their gaze
Different rules when they were younger,
different fools for different days

With eyes and heart wide open,
still shrouded in the night
A time such things are spoken,
… when the timing feels right

The dark in parts, absorbs it,
the anxiousness, the doubt
In daylight, awkward orbits,
nocturnal, we run out

Underneath a velvet sky
that rolls in from the east
On our backs, on grass, we lie,
a prayer to hungry beasts

To see beyond the fire's glare,
to see it for it's warmth
Warmth that we would gladly share,
flames lapping back and forth

An invite to such beasts laid low,
deprived a kindred touch
Reaping off the seeds we sow,
some crops we yearn too much

Desire is its own worst foe,
with eyes green, yellow... red
We lay in wake, in shadows, low,
we wait for night to bed

To bed down in a meadow blessed,
a fire at our feet
An invite for the acquiesced,
a warning in the heat

A warming call to see it all
with caution on the wind
To see beyond the veil's thrall
to dance in flames undimmed

A dark horse in a darker night,
the pale rider seen
Two halves there, but not in sight,
except for those who dream

Dream of racing through the woods,
fleet fast cross forest floors,
as wolves vacate, the likelihood,
worn, weary... wanting more

Through the trees on maiden wends,
with knights close at our backs
Pursued, renewed, the games they blend,
breaking through the black

Entering the clearing,
a flurry on the breeze
A wind mutually fearing,
the wind chimes that it sees

Rustling in a summer breeze,
the wind bells peel fair
A sound to put a soul at ease,
in summer light, laid bare

Where good ground bare, bewilders us
through winter, spring and fall
Out there in the wilderness,
...the badlands beckon, call
© Copyright 2019 Logan (stipey at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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