“The doors to the world of the wild Self are few but precious. If you have a deep scar, that is a door, if you have an old, old story, that is a door. If you love the sky and the water so much you almost cannot bear it, that is a door. If you yearn for a deeper life, a full life, a sane life, that is a door.”

― Clarissa Pinkola Estés

This yearning. A Door.

An unabashed sense of adventure and aliveness
Where I bare my breasts to the moonlight, the firelight, the sun.
On offering to the Great Mother.
Who holds me in beauty

Doors opening and closed
Sometimes I barely step over
the threshold.
Looking out,
wondering what would it be like to
step through.

The wound that is the door.
How I keep coming back,
over and over again,
to the place where I remember
there is love inside.
That I am whole and good.

My Wild Self
will no longer be tamed,
is so ready to whole-heartedly
–and by that I mean all in,
no more looking back–
Embrace my beating animal rhythm.

Wild one, what is the door of your yearning?