A wild heart needs protection,
needs roots in the good earth to keep her 
from flying off in the wind's calling.

A wild heart needs dark
to recoil for another day's unraveling.

A wild heart needs a ready ear
to sing into, as joyous in receipt 
as is the giving, the nourishment 
of welcome, a spot to land and root.

A wild heart is feathered 
by the echos of her own song
breaking off stony cliffs.