How do you name something formless?

That lies beneath the metaphysical skin of a mythical creature constructed by air strokes with an invisible paintbrush


And you may come close to where my thoughts go at the moment

Was it a shadow rippling across the field in the last shaft of sunlight before the onset of a moonless night

Was it there?

Did I see it?

Or was it more of a feeling of great beauty

A sigh that rippled along the hairs of my arms

Footsteps of a fairy dancing across my heart

More a memory

Or a dream

And why would anyone ponder capture of such an ephemeral spirit

Some things after all

Are best left wild

3 thoughts on “Wild

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