Gridless
I've been learning to light my own fire again,
Inside and with my hands.
My old friends may think I'm crazy,
God I understand.
Waving my arms through the dirt, blowing dust out of my eyes,
A small seedling has sprouted,
A new child of the divine.
A new nest in the distance,
Birds chirping, siblings fighting.
Free food and kindling everywhere,
Though that doesn't always feel exciting.
Survival mode is a spectrum,
Dependent on the individual being.
Once I lived in busier suburbs,
There was no choice but to be seen.
I yearn for the bush to keep speaking,
For the spirits to keep rustling at night.
For the mice to find a new home,
For me to always hug my child tight.
The stars, they move... And the bugs quiet down, waiting for me to pass.
The world I once knew, is what I need last.
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