I Am A Feral Nomad

I am becoming feral

living close to nature.

The cycles of the earth,

the moon, the planets, the stars, 

capture my attention more than the news cycles.

The ground is my home,

the sky my entertainment,

the sun my medicine.

Like a feral animal,

my senses are acute

and I can smell bullshit a mile away.

My needs are small

yet my world is large.

I am a citizen of the planet wherever I roam.

Living outdoors – out of doors – outside of walls –

I am, when I enter the pure present moment, one with the Universe.

By LIVING – on the OUT SIDE – not the – IN SIDE,

and surrendering to my true nature,

I have healed parts of myself without trying

and without the intervention and opinions of the high holy institution of medicine.

I am feral to the society in which I was born.

Letting go of who and what society thinks I should be,

I am not successful by its standards.

I am not prosperous.

I own little, except for my SELF.

Yet this feral life

offers richness in experience

abundance in lessons

and feelings of being acutely, sometimes painfully, alive.

I have returned to my feral self,

gazing at the stars and wondering of the moon,

becoming again the child I remember running freely in the fields

wild strawberries melting deliciously on her tongue.

Like the lone wandering wolf

my body is a soft, strong, wild and feral creature.

I know where to find my pack, but solitude is my home. 

My feral body loves the open skies

the wild expanse of nature

the breeze on my skin

the sun on my face

the ground beneath my feet

the physical movement needed to thrive in this feral life.

It’s only from my wild feral self that I truly commune with this wild world.

By day, feet on the Earth

meditating among the mountains, the rocks, the plants.

I meditate alongside the trees, and become one with their sun dappled ways.

By night, I am filled by the moon

and the glow of the Milky Way spinning in the vastness above me.  

When the OUT SIDE challenges me, there is no question 

that I AM ALIVE!

When I’m cold, warmth is delicious.

When I’m hot, shade is an inviting pool.

There are times when whipping winds or frigid air on my bare skin are no longer discomforts, 

but exhilarating sensations.

Still, not all of the time.

My body is returning to its feral nature,

but my mind sometimes lags.

My mind still resists.

My body never forgets its yearning to be free

My mind never forgets the walls that offered comfort, and the illusion of safety.

Yet, in moments of stillness, when my mind surrenders to the wild energy of my feral body, I am fully free.