Every time I swing on my old leather jacket
and leave my dirty, dusty, rough, and battered,
beautiful, comfortable, warm little house
I hope I’ll see you round about
in your pretty dresses, gym gear,
or old jeans and raincoat,
and I hope your bright eyes
and trembling smile, your neat hair,
your strong arms, your broken heart,
your words and wisdom will open wide,
hold me, take me, and gently drag me
somewhere deep, untouched, and distant
where together we can release, softly sink into
and silence – not suffocate or subdue –
the wild, wild, wild, wild, wild wildness.
So, I always carry a scrap of white paper,
neatly folded and tucked into my tiny, empty wallet
with my name and number scrawled upon it;
just in case I get the chance to give it to you.
I wanna be that thing you do
when you’ve nothing else to do.
The long walks you take around town.
The favourite book you slowly read
while sitting in the café.
The endless worlds you imagine.
I wanna be where you go
when you’re lost or alone
amidst your twists and turns.
The hills you climb. The woods you roam.
The parks where you laze.
The waters you swim.
I wanna be those sacred moments
in between the vision and ambition.
The baths you take.
The soothing drinks you sip.
The yummy treats you nibble.
The secret prayers you make.
I wanna be the simple nourishment
that eventually becomes
your quiet passion.
The memories you keep in your heart.
The charity work you always mean to start.
I wanna be the place you come to rest,
where you realise
you’ve always felt the best.
The stones you throw at other stones
when sitting on the beach.
The animals you love unconditionally.
I wanna be the one with whom you share
the glorious nothing we are left with
when we understand that everything is bare.