Day 243

I’m feeling blank tonight.

I’ve written and erased a dozen sentences only to decide

there is nothing I want to say.

Some nights it is comforting

just to admit defeat.

Thank you for listening,

Love,

Natasha

Michelle, I’ve had this guest post in my inbox for weeks and just looked at it tonight. Just when I needed to see it. Yes, this is how it feels to rewild. Yes, this is how it feels to chase something you are not sure exists. Yes this is what it feels like. Yes, oh yes. Thank you Shell, I needed this tonight. Love to you.

photo by Michelle Johnsen

photo by Michelle Johnsen

i’m hungry, ravenous, for a wild that doesn’t exist any longer, one not lost, but discarded by others before, for hundreds of years.

i’m starving for more than the morsels i’ve had the pleasure to taste–

oh! reminds me of another story. where woman and man, in the beginning, taste a fruit most forbidden, as we have barely tasted wildness-

a fruit of knowledge from across vast time, an echo of the past of our planet, a food long denied our famished souls.

to savor just a fraction of what once was awakens a tiny place in the soul that remembers, and from that moment we are changed.

we take a bite, we pass it. she takes a bite, he takes a bite, and you take one.

and once you know, you can’t forget.

homesick for someplace you’ve never been, nostaglic with memories that don’t belong to you, but whose photographs you found torn up in the wastebasket,

and on whose torn fragments you spent precious hours, piecing them together into some semblance of the original,

or as close as you can get to finishing a puzzle without the box to show you what it’s supposed to look like.

you tape it together gently, lining up the creased edges side by side, like a child,

oh innocent and painfully hopful, and place it in your left breast pocket, by your lungs that beg clean air, by your ever-beating heart, by the warm, soft skin of your body,

and you never forget it as long as you live, you never stop wanting another taste

photo by Michelle Johnsen

photo by Michelle Johnsen

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One response to “

  1. michellejohnsen

    Reblogged this on Adventure Journal and commented:
    Michelle, I’ve had this guest post in my inbox for weeks and just looked at it tonight. Just when I needed to see it. Yes, this is how it feels to rewild. Yes, this is how it feels to chase something you are not sure exists. Yes this is what it feels like. Yes, oh yes. Thank you Shell, I needed this tonight. Love to you.

    photo by Michelle Johnsen
    photo by Michelle Johnsen
    i’m hungry, ravenous, for a wild that doesn’t exist any longer, one not lost, but discarded by others before, for hundreds of years.

    i’m starving for more than the morsels i’ve had the pleasure to taste–

    oh! reminds me of another story. where woman and man, in the beginning, taste a fruit most forbidden, as we have barely tasted wildness-

    a fruit of knowledge from across vast time, an echo of the past of our planet, a food long denied our famished souls.

    to savor just a fraction of what once was awakens a tiny place in the soul that remembers, and from that moment we are changed.

    we take a bite, we pass it. she takes a bite, he takes a bite, and you take one.

    and once you know, you can’t forget.

    homesick for someplace you’ve never been, nostaglic with memories that don’t belong to you, but whose photographs you found torn up in the wastebasket,

    and on whose torn fragments you spent precious hours, piecing them together into some semblance of the original,

    or as close as you can get to finishing a puzzle without the box to show you what it’s supposed to look like.

    you tape it together gently, lining up the creased edges side by side, like a child,

    oh innocent and painfully hopful, and place it in your left breast pocket, by your lungs that beg clean air, by your ever-beating heart, by the warm, soft skin of your body,

    and you never forget it as long as you live, you never stop wanting another taste

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