Wilderness Poems - Poems about Wilderness

In the wilderness of bewilderment, Sculpting different sorts of thoughts, Where intent fades, needing no interment, And truth exudes from all its rots. There lies the stark resolve for my future, A slender hope of life ahead, Bound together by a catgut suture, That time corrodes until it's shed. All kept away from prying eyes, Ever before my intent was conceived, Just to keep all...

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When wanderlust began pounding my heart, On a beautiful autumn afternoon, crisp and sunny, I set out on a trek to the nearby woods. The leaves on trees had begun turning ruddy. All along, I saw ripening fruits and wild herbs, And paused to take pictures, but kept moving. No doubt, it was a rewarding experience. The lure of the unknown seemed...

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The sanguine sun just waved goodbye and hides in the silhouettes of hills in wilderness; But, I still stand here between the line that separates night from day; No phone in my pocket only my own, my own weary self escaping from the city's endless hustle; To slow down, that is my aim . Hence, I am here. But little did I know,...

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In the wind, hear a plaintive, mournful wail. It is more than a wolf caught in a trap. It's more than fishing gear catching a whale and rainforests being wiped from the map. It is a voice that cannot speak in words. Across the ages, you discern the moan of vanishing prairies, buffalo herds, that's carried by plowed up...

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In the howling wilderness, the path is lost beneath the fury of wild winds, The compass loses its meaning under the vast and empty sky, without stars to guide us, Our steps wander through the nameless realm, where echoes forget their words, Alone we walk through the wilderness of the heart, seeking traces of vanished dreams. The thorns of...

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The path is lost where wild winds press, No compass holds beneath the sky— We walk alone through wilderness. The thorns of time, the weight of stress, The silent trees that do not lie— The path is lost where wild winds press. Regret is thick, and hope grows less, Yet still we look, and still...

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High winds have come to a land remote and wild. Oak leaves tremble in the black of night While critters to the underbrush for the present are exiled. Like a giant thrashing fiend, wind roars with all its might, Increasing in intensity as if something got it very riled. Not many birds will still remain where there is great height. Gone...

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Wilderness Moonlight stretches into the clearing, intangible ...but offering comfort. She is dying now, pining to be rescued, her breathing jagged, her endurance spent; the bullet had lanced her stomach therefore prolonging agony. Behind her lies a zick-zacked trail of red, splattered death, her own. She had been born a lone wolf but now seeks release in moonlight's arms. A terminal breath, a final...

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Written: June 16, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh Quote: "I long to escape the prison of my ego and lose myself in the mountains and the desert..." By Rumi **************** The autumn wind howls from every side, Scattering austere needles, exotic and wide. Planting in me the...

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Life can be filled with much love and joy, what happen when people want to destroy? We each need to find our place, in the Howling Wilderness of space. Away from all the hurt and pain, where we can rest both body and brain. We can hear the wild animal sounds, taking us far from the evil peoples towns....

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Gnarled trees yawn under a starless sky As a swift coldness mixes with the "howling wilderness,” Crescendos until pure silence strangles the macabre atmosphere. Preparing for the imminent journey, I place a slip of paper under an obsidian crystal, Lay my favourite burgundy blouse upon a distressed bedframe. The tick tock, tick tock of the clock cracks at 1:16...

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Alfred and the wilderness Alfred, who with the greatest of ease tells, he is not my father and I went for a walk across a chlorophyll-filled field. Alfred, who is a musician and never ventures out in the landscape saw some grazing sheep and wondered if they were dangerous, No, I said they are sheep and born friendly as God created...

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Howling Wilderness windswept bleak treeless plain white blanketed mountains permafrost hardened ground, I am alone ...

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We are natural bodies outside engaging spiritual souls inside So also, and with more significant integrity in this domesticated desecrating lack of thriving home We are timeless souls with spacious bodies Sexual souls with sacred bodies Sensational sages called to musing ordinations, sensexual singing souls communing sacred dancing bodies Inside pleasure history's reweaving healthy rites outside passion mystery's re-ligioning wild wealth sights Of natural wilderness bodies restoring spiritual sanctuary souls. ...

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Huddled in a shielded corner Chanting in the emptiness A howling wilderness Seeks its soul ...

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