A wild heart needs protection,
needs roots in the good earth to keep her
from flying off in the wind's calling.
A wild heart needs dark
to recoil for another day's unraveling.
A wild heart needs a ready ear
to sing into, as joyous in receipt
as is the giving, the nourishment
of welcome, a spot to land and root.
A wild heart is feathered
by the echos of her own song
breaking off stony cliffs.