Wild
She trudged through the dirt
Feet bare against the earth
With a warm, soft breeze
Caressing her cheeks.
Coming home to yourself is messy,
She thought;
She felt
Volcanic eruptions of emotion
Birthing a clarity
She’d been seeking all her life.
Sometimes she’d strayed
A bit too far onto the path,
Mistaking her life
For that of someone else +
The rocks stung her toes
Until she remembered.
She knew in her bones
She wasn’t here to be ordinary
In fact, no one was but
For her, following a path
Others prescribed
Smothered
All she had to give
(A lot)
This process was messy:
There was dirt between her toes +
Sweat dropped down her back
On the days the sun shone
A little too strongly.
Sometimes she blushed with foolishness
Or said the wrong thing
Or upset someone she cared about deeply
But she was learning.
Even in the moments she cringed
At her own sequence of thoughts,
She could let judgement rule her or
She could show up with love, with humour
With a shake of her head +
A curious inquiry
Into the next best
Course of action.
Free will
Exists when we
Step back enough to see it.
Some days it was lonely out there
In the wild,
So she carried
The love of her people
In her heart.
Her tears
Watered the flowers as she walked +
Her smile challenged the stars
To shine a little brighter
Even in the dark.
A woman untamed
She was learning.
She was returning to
The fullness of who
She’d known herself to be
All along.
An original poem by Maia Thom.
If you liked this poem, you may also enjoy my first full-length collection, Kitchen Table Talks: Simple Reminders + Thoughts on Life. Inspired by the conversations we have around the kitchen table when we’re just figuring life out, this book is a space for you to breathe and come home to yourself. You can find out more here. Sending you love xx