Say or think what you want but I love this poem… I even cried a couple of times because of it and I don’t mind to admit it.
WILDERNESS - by Ian McCallum
Have we forgotten that wilderness is not a place, but a pattern of soul where every tree, every bird and beast is a soul maker? Have we forgotten that wilderness is not a place, but a moving feast of stars, footprints, scales and beginnings? Since when did we become afraid of the night and that only the bright stars count? Or that our moon is not a moon unless it is full? By whose command were the animals through groping fingers, one for each hand, reduced to the big and little five? Have we forgotten that every creature is within us carried by tides of Earthly blood and that we named them? Have we forgotten that wilderness is not a place, but a season and that we are in its final hour?