I imagine large expanses, rolling hills like wrinkles in a carpet. Trees cover these hills, creating a place of large wolves and monsters wanting me to prove myself. And so, I hike. Out of the car, this metal creation keeping me from the smell and feel of the woods from which I was born. The mist curls its fingers around the tree trunks like they are a gear shift, and it wants to go faster. The colors are dim, but they couldn't be brighter. The mountains call me with their mystery, their secrecy, their vastness. I am in wonder at how quickly my heart has begun to yearn for the amalgamation of my body and this quiet part of the world. The wild part of me yearns, begs, and pleads desperately with my body to run with the pine trees and forget civilization. To be cold, and make a fire to feel the heat. To dance around the flames and sparks like a beat, loose and unbrittled in my dance. To need only basics and become one with the animal we all keep inside. When the snow falls around me and I look up through the trees to a sky of nothingness, there is peace here. The snow hits and makes no sound, freezing my resolve to never cage the beast I have let loose of myself, uncontained in this body of mine. There is a freedom that only comes when who we were meant to be is indulged. That itch you feel under your skin? That fire burning behind your eyes, screaming in your ears to let go! Run as fast as you can because if you don't then what will become of you? This is it. Here, I am a born again. Here I am wild.
The waves crashing on top of one another pull me closer and closer. How can I resist such energy within myself? The craving, deep, need, that I feel is undeniable in its relentlessness. The water is terrifying, but the way it moves is like my blood, the way our bodies dance. The ice cold water on my toes is when I become someone different. The salty smell seeps into my pores, and the sand finds its way into every inch of me. The water is full of dark, deep, unexplored. Systems of animals that survive without light, without legs, without eyes. The deep depths are like a bittersweet love, the poison I'll willingly take, the cliff I'm about to jump off of. This jump, leap, run, off the edge is imperative. Suddenly, it's less about the pain in my joins from the climb, and more about flying into the unknown. My body screams yes while my mind is unsure. So I turn off the insecurity in my head, and give away to my instincts that break me down into seafoam into sand, into water, into something besides myself. The jump, the fall, and the deep passion to give into the carnal desires I carry in my toes bubbles up. The mist freckles my face just before I sink into the quiet depths. The water envelopes me and my very body and soul let out a cry of joy, as I am more than myself but no less than the ocean. Here, I am expansive. Here I am reckless.
My fingers run through the eyes of white bark, imagining they are watching me. Unblinking and all-seeing. The sunlight breaks through the tiny leaves of green, and their sound brings the energy my feet need to run. I dash through the army of bark, dirt kicking up behind me as suddenly I am a nymph. Flowers grow in fields, and I don't pick any. I lay until the flowers breath in time with me, and the spell of soil seeps into my skin. I can barely contain its energy, and I sing like nobody's listening, because these wild plains of grass carry nothing but berries and blue skies. Bare foot, because mother nature lost her connection with us too long ago. The sun fills me to the brim, and I think I hear a stream somewhere. It ripples over tiny stones, and my toes yearn to feel the moss. There is a wooden bridge across, and I run my hands over the railing, skipping. The blue sky is my cape, the trees my people, and the flowers my crown. Here, I am a child. Here I am free.
An old building, dim lights. dust and crickets. The silence snapped in half by my footsteps and the sound of whispers. The old wood filled with carvings and stories of those past. Stained glass and restored chairs welcome to the hollow parts of me, filling them up. Ivy curls around the gutters, and the windows are enclosed by by bricks. They have no glass, but are filled with branches and leaves and teeming with life. The fire escape leads to the roof, and rebellion ask me if I want to join. Staircases lead no where, but the urge to run a hand over their carved railings is irresistable.The library whispers louder and louder. Old books, drapery and mismatched chairs hidden behind a do not enter sign. Secrets are everywhere here, but you can’t check them out. The sun rises and the cool breeze finds me in a blanket on a balcony. The sun floats down through holes in the rafters. I am like a bird on a branch, untouchable and about to take flight. My feet are in socks as I pad down the hallway covered in murals, feeling my emotions run beside me. I hold hands with a feeling I can ignore, and can't name. Something that blossoms in dark alleyways and bids me to be one with the wonder we so suppress today. back lit windows, staircases and little places to be alone. Here, I am hidden. Here I am calm.
All it takes is one drop, on my window sill. I'm bottled up in society and stress, yet that one drop is what spills over my top and empties me. I get up and run, run like my life depends on it because hell, it might. I'm outside in seconds, crying for a taste of what I can't feel alone. My body sobs, in some desperate, twisted, silent plea for release. Slowly, the clouds bless me with the sweet pleasure of rain. The albatross around my neck burns under the rain, and I can finally breath for the first time since I realized the world has problems and so do I. The showers cover my body, washing me of my sins, my dirty, this body. It covers every inch of me, rolling over my nose and down my chin as laughter bubbles out of me like some trapped tiger within the cage of my ribs. It smells like my childhood, the way I used to be, the way I wish I was. Running through the streets with soaked clothes, the water breaks me down into who I should be. I see my reflection in a puddle, and the wet, soaked woman I see before me is beautiful. The rain comes harder, the sound like drums in my ears. It's cold, but that's how it creeps through my skin and into my bones. I shiver, but how else am I to know I can feel? Here, I am at my zenith. Here I am alive.
The epitome of my need drives me out to a place where there are no trees. No other cars, no sound but my own. It begs me to lie down on the ground, and look up. The clouds over the sky are hypnotic, and the mere fact that there is nothing else in my vision is a miracle. In a day where there is always someone, something, not many know the sheer blissfulness of being totally alone. Free from power lines, planes, and anything less but mother nature and her sons, the clouds. They are mesmerizing as I watch them slowly creep across the sky, and they sing to me in a way that none else have the power to. Slowly the clouds give away to the stars, and it's as though I couldn't see before this, not really. The dark sky breathes me in as I breath it in. Far beyond my comprehension is this universe, to the point of religion. I worship at the alter of the constellations, and in return I need nothing. I need not food, not water, not substance to exist in this place. It is how we all start, is it not? In awe of the world, it's beauty and sheer expansion. When was the last time you felt it? Those fingers scratching under your skin, reaching outward to embrace the world? The pure craving we all have, to shed our skin and be simply flesh and bone. To let out the noise of your head and escape this cage, this trap that is silence. Here, I am aware. Here I am nothing less and nothing more than my true self.
There is only one person I know who can break me down into this head space. Thats what this is, is it not? A state of mind. An awakening. A transformation. A separation of my mind and body, if only for a time. Just the thought of her sends me swimming in a sea of curly hair and freckles. Her voice is the only thing to fill me with such an energy as the forest. Her body is the only thing I crave as much as the freedom of an open sky. Her finger tips are the only thing to clear my mind like the rain. My thoughts are not a flutter, not mixed up, not lost, simply calmed. focused, for the first time. On those lips like rose petals. On those strands of hair in front of her eyes. On those eyes lidded over my body. On her voice seeping off her tounge like honey. For, tell me, can nature return my awe? when a gasp slides past my lips, do the trees breath it in? When I yearn for the build and the spill and the crash does nature rise and fall beside me? Not how she does. Her mind, her body, it's all overwhelming in a way I can't find anywhere else. With her I am not my true self. With her I am somehow more.