I felt love in the thorns that scratched
my hide until I bled running through Indian
Forest barefoot and alone the trees my
home away away away from all the worries
grown ups silently shouted.

I felt love in the musk of ancient walls
left witness to weep into the moss
that watched civilization torn asunder
through dark ages and enlightenment
and two world wars.

I felt love in the sky and the stars so close
they tickled my ears as they whirligigged
over the Rocky Mountains spinning stories
and songs the brook babbled into lullabies
by my sleeping bag.

But of all the loves mine to cherish
none compared to the wild child wonder
I felt with my boys from the womb, to my arms
to my heart torn by thorns as they ran
into the forest of the world.






(c) Pamela Moffatt
April 27, 2016