Wild and Free

Debra Littlejohn (Shinder), 1992

I love the night, when everything is quiet and the creatures who aren't seen by day come out to play.
I love it when the moon shines on my hair; I never did care too much for the sun.
In my heart, I love the ones who love the dark -- I hear them when they call to me;
I love to watch them run.

I love the wolves, the way they roam,
without a home but not alone.
I love the way their voices join in mournful, joyful harmony.
I love the songs they sing to me
about a love that's always wild and free.

I love the eagle when she flies,
the way she knows she owns the skies.
I love her prey, the way it cries
for worlds and times it never knew
and things that it will never do
and there is something wild and free inside of me
that loves what's wild and free inside of you.

I can heal you.
Let me feel you touch the part of me
that's still in touch with what is wild and free.
There always has been something in the heart of me that can't be satisfied with this mundane reality,
something deep inside that cannot hide
from what will always be my destiny:
the thing that's wild and free inside of me.

Don't you know if you let yourself go
and feel what's real here in the dark,
I could cut the chains of pain
that bind your mind and confine your heart - but first you must believe in things
you thought could never be;
first you must believe in fantasy.
And then you have to dare to share the dreams you thought could not come true.
First you must trust in what's in me
and in what's wild and free inside of you.