For the Wild Ones

There are wild places, not on maps, nor in memory, filling the heart with the ache of longing,

where the sun dapples your skin, and the wind whispers secrets to the trees that hold the history of the universe.

These places shelter the unseen, the murmurs of love, of loss, of time in its eternal embrace,

and I am alive in these wild ones, who carry the fire from their hearts, to ignite the skies above.

Let us walk barefoot on the earth, feeling each blade of grass, like a thread of connection.

We are all wanderers, under one sky, tribes of wild ones, bound by the rhythm of nature, waiting to dance together, yearning to sing our song.

• Diane di Prima