The Wild Things

I never thought my journey through the forest would meet so many Wild Things. Straying off the path into the dark woods. The sites there are to see. 

To my eyes the things are wild. But among their own kind they are all that they are. They have no care for each other unless attacked. They have no care for connections that are true. They are wild and free.

So much unlike me. Every word from my mouth. Every acknowledgement. Every confession ties me to the chain of responsibility, honor, commitment, faith. Until I the strange beast in their midst.

Marvel at how they speak with words that tie like the mist. The wonder of how they run one to another speaking of eternal love. But changing love before the words complete their trip from the lips.

Waving the oakleaf while stabbing with the spear. Building there shelters while lighting them afire! The beauty of their dance by the firelight. There abandoned and free from the weight. The joy of their carelessness. These Wild Things eat their young and their elders alike. They revel in the chaos.

While all goes to weed around them they dance! They sing in joyous chorus among them. Each voice seeking to be star alone. The only consensus is that of the chaos.

I pray to my God but he does not hear me in here. They watch me these Wild Things. I amused them. They beckon me to be free. To burn and condemn. To lie and pretend. To pray and to sin. For a wild thing it is easy. For they are free.

Their Priests and Priestess make mockery of my faith. As they recite with painted face their contempt. They know my presence. They know my pain. But what care have they. They are the Wild Things and they are free.

I must find my way back to the path. For this is the realm of the Wild Things. I am not free enough to stay.