I want the wild ache back in my chest,
The kind that forgets what calm feels best,
Red hair flashing like a struck match flame,
Threading the forest, oh, whispering my name,
We run where the ground still knows our weight,
Where breath turns sharp and timing is fate,
Roots scrape skin and the night leans close,
Moonlight tasting of almost and suppose,
Laughter breaks rules in dark she agreed to keep,
It trips my stride and steals purrs me in my sleep,
Between the pines our shadows collide,
Too near to reason,in season, too far to hide,
Hands pinned and her world misbehaves,
The forest listens and as the trees wave,
If I stop chasing all meaning is lost,
Because stillness is colder than any cost,
She who sits in fire and flame,
Pixie magic in story and name,
I call to thee through with toil and task,
With sadistic streak grin on white mask,
Follow me into this light and dark,
So that holy awe may give hark,
To grow through obedience and as one,
Till the sun sets and this is finally done.