Wild and Tame

My friend, the squirrel, sits at my feet.
I wonder perhaps should I be sitting at his.
He is tame
Unlike me.
I have peanuts for him
He knows.
He is willing to wait
And teach me
All the lessons he knows
Of a heart
That is wild
Yet tame.

I marvel at all
That is contained
Within his tiny heart.
The joys of peanuts and sunflower seeds,
Being unafraid in the face of strangers,
And making friends so easily,
Of finding a home among things lush and green,
Knowing no fear to leap
Into things unknown.

Will he instruct me
In the ways to live once again
And move on?
Tell me to remove these rings
Linked to a grief buried beneath red granite?
Can he share with me the lesson
Of what to do with all things circular,
New and old grief link upon link of chain?
Teach me the ways of letting go
Of fears?
To staunch the bleeding of wounds new
And ancient?

Is this the meaning
Of being wild and tamed?

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