The Wild One

/ Pam Goode

In the end,

(and there is always an end),

I will never be

the

wild

one.

The one who leaps

without looking.

Who says her mind

of a moment

(without weighing

alternatives

options

costs).

The one who feels so

strongly,

invincibly,

that she speaks

and Acts

in a fluidity

that escapes me.

My wildness is

considered.

quiet.

deep.

and my leaps teeter on the wind like fledgling birds.

And yet I leap.

Because the heart

still rules,

and the wind still lifts.

© Pamela Pardue Goode

(Written while cutting pink circles in a race to finish a mosaic)

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