Wild Thing

My heart beats like a wild thing,
What am I afraid of?
Perhaps not knowing is the source of this fear,
Recognition the body has its own rhythms,
Its own unconscious reasons
For making me slave to this fear.
I can doubt all but the existence of doubt,
The future beckons with one hand and threatens with the other –
The price of being human,
Always looking back and projecting forwards,
It is our nature to be unnatural,
To look everywhere for answers that will, at last, solve the problem of death.
But the only solution is to live life,
Rejoice in the flip of the coin that gave us this bounty,
It will not be our forever,
And therein lies the source of this fear –
Losing the gift we have been given for free,
Never when we expect,
Each moment casts a shadow,
Life is never free of death,
The knot with strands of both is inseparable,
Wound too tight this paradox is the heart of this truth,
It cannot be solved only lived,
Cannot be broken up only ingested whole,
Cannot be denied only accepted,
And so this heart beats on too fast,
A wild thing that must run its course
In words and rhyme and breath,
In other words, by living.


6 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. poetryroad
    Oct 31, 2012 @ 11:22:52

    As always I enjoy your writing. This is line in particular is clever:

    Rejoice in the flip of the coin that gave us this bounty,

    Happy Haunting!


  2. Aya Wilson
    Oct 31, 2012 @ 15:05:42

    a wild thing is ye, wu, and sheng,

    lovely thoughts on it.

    Happy Halloween!


  3. ogungbesan20
    Nov 27, 2012 @ 19:20:32

    woah, amazing. This is awesome. http://ogungbesan20.wordpress.com/


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