Poetry By John Cannon


Some Ancient Wildness
Poetry By John Cannon

From all-creatures.org
Animal Rights and Inspirational Poetry Archive

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Some Ancient Wildness
Poetry By John Cannon

The trees are bare,
the woods are damp,
few birds are calling
this foreshortened afternoon;

The sky is heavy-laden
with foreboding storm clouds -
shiny tin, then dull pewter,
then deepening charcoal black,

An eerie quick-ending day
urging me to hustle home
and burrow in
with lights and heat.

But the raw edge of nature
touches some ancient wildness in me,

The chill and damp
and rising wind
quicken my senses
and draw me in,

Beckon me back
to a time
when unrefined man
was just another animal,

A minor player
in a huge arena
of untamed natural forces.

I sit on the cold ground
amidst the sodden leaves,
not fighting the windburn
nor my dropping temperature,

Easing back
my modern-man barriers,
letting natural elements
seep in deeper toward my core,

Oh-so-gradually adapting
to this once-thought hostile world,
reaching back eons to grasp
my outdoor animal roots,

My pulse slows
and abstractions
leave my mind,
everything is here and now;

And then in the west,
just below the dark cloud banks,
a brilliant line
of gold, then red, then purple,

As the hidden sun
splashes the day’s last fire
along the horizon,
just as it did a million years ago.