Firstly, it’s not that wild,
unless wild means still and quiet –
perhaps it does. Perhaps
it means becoming water
held with care. Something like water.
Or silence, and sleep, turning away
from everything, shutting out the world.
Perhaps it means dark shapes
that form and fall away – almost visible,
or soft sounds almost heard.
Lying, suspended, somewhere
between light and dark,
between air and water
between sound and silence –
thoughtless, because thoughts
are far too formed for this
contorted space.
Brendan at earthweal asks us to think about the wild dark, the place where inspiration lies.
Sarah writes poems 