And through her wild hair sunlight crept,
turning the dark brown into a deep red.
A wildness on fire;
Unruly and Red
snaking into a glorious mess,
which she tries to pile up at the top of her head,
But fails.
As it comes tumbling down, framing her face once more.
her soul, flowing though every strand,
Seeking,
Beyond the pain,
Beyond the emptiness,
A touch that would heal,
A caress that would ignite,
A pair of wings that would carry this wounded soul away.
Her hair spreads, red tangled tresses,
locked together, moving apart,
crossing over burns and scars,
Seeking, ever more.
Consuming all that is her;
her lips, her eyes, her skin and smile.
A wildness that cannot be contained.
With a life of its own, it tugs at her,
whispering words of ancient wisdom
that for eons,
murmured through the trees and fluttered in the breeze,
that hid among the sands of desert and beach,
to be unearthed when it was time.
She listens, to each tug of each strand,
and sets it free;
Red, wild and tangled,
the glorious mess of her soul.
Musings 