A Poem for the Wild Woman

Wild Seeds

In a scramble to tame the Earth

Man weeded all that would not conform

The wild ones were uprooted, 

Their roots burned 

Bonfires of books and ancient texts 

Embodied wisdom torched at the stake

Divide and conquer they thought,

So they scattered us 

Like wild seeds across the globe

Far from the soils

Of ancestral homes

But what they did not know

Is that wisdom

Resides deep in the bones of this world

It can not be contained 

or destroyed

It is carried

On the birds' songs

and butterfly wings,

on the summer breeze 

and within spring's snow melt

It is conveyed in the low hums

Of the flowers and the trees 

And can be felt 

By any who dare to heed the wild call

What man did not realize

Is that wise woman

Lives within the essence of life

In its cycles of creation and destruction

Flowers so wild can not be tamed,

not by fire, flood, poison or fear

Wild seeds always find a way 

Through cracks and crevices 

They root into the soul

and grow with ferocity 

like sweet violet on claimed lands, 

Reclaiming what is theirs by birth right