Rewild
There were soil stained feet
Racing across stepping stones – warmed by the midday sun
To meet tall trees - branches wrapped in old man’s beard.
There were climbers not afraid of scars and bruises,
Reaching the very tops of the trees clinging on for dear life,
While beads of sweat roll down out of breath – red faces.
Out of breath – awe-filled faces.
These were my childhood.
There was waking up to the subtle rhythm of humming lawn mowers,
exposing caterpillars both brown and smooth and ebony with prickles all over.
There were caterpillar houses,
Made from parsley jars which made parsley, forever, remind me of caterpillars.
There were countless hours enjoying the brilliant monotony of swing sets,
While the smell of freshly cut grass hung heavy in the air.
There were dirt holes throughout the garden
Made into mud pies, secretly baked in brick-ovens by self-appointed chefs.
And then there was the fall of the self-appointed chefs when the secret bakery was discovered.
These were my childhood.
There were seas of bright yellow dandelions,
Flooding the garden.
There were cartwheel lessons through waves of sun-bleached grass,
Led by instructors who remarkably resembled sisters.
There were visions of outstretched mirrors,
Twirling skirts, hovering dancing legs,
While golden-headed weeds watched in awe.
Then, there was the crashing of applause,
Like currents at the end of their journey.
These were my childhood.
There were books with innumerable pages, read by her familiar voice,
Catapulting us all into very strange and wonderful worlds.
Worlds even more wonderful than our own.
There were shared beds with cold feet and hot breath
Making its mark in the most annoying spot at the edge of my face.
These were my childhood.
There was warm sun, and dark skin, and braided hair.
There were countless sisters and that one brother.
There were swing sets and rivers of dandelions.
Those were my childhood.
When I was just a little girl
When I was just a little girl
I'd twirl then swirl with brightly coloured fabrics and painted nails.
I was enamoured by all that was me.
Take me back to when I was uncultivated
To when I was filled with the wonder,
Of me.
Reroot me in soil rich and deep.
Remake me into something raw
And make me all that I was meant to be.
I am not here as an exhibition for your private,
Amusement.
I am not to be used as a commentary,
She's too big, too old, too dark.
She’s too young, too thin, too light.
Unravel me and see the woman that hides
Beneath ordinary lies,
Beneath the guise of 'everything's alright'.
Covered by disguise,
Fully clothed through life -
Undress me and see all that makes me.
Guide your fingers down my every curve.
Memorize my marks.
And there you'll find me.
There - you'll find me.
I am me.
Replanted for my total restoration.
Replanted for regrowth.
I will rebuild me
Into something true.
Reconciled to who I'm meant to be.
I have exiled all that doesn't add up to me.
Wild and free are all I want to be.
So - I strip away until all that remains is a
Little child, the girl I was, unafraid,
Undefiled by the world around.