Maybe a wild god

Maybe a wild god will cross your path.
They are terrible to behold
And do not know the ways
Of machine, of media, and of magazines
Their voice makes tales that twists time.
 
When the wild god passes your door
You will not know them.
They are an echo in the dark
A memory locked away
And the shrine you no longer visit.
 
They will not need to knock or ring
As the door will be open
Introduced as wind whips the leaves
Through a crack in the everyday
Shall they enter and bloom.
 
You do not know how to let them in,
Always too busy for the unknown
Cowering behind the threshold
Too fearful to look
In case you hunger for what you see.
 
The birds bolt away
The wild god smiles,
You meet their gaze
They wave a hand
The frantic flapping stops.
 
The wild god looks you over
Fires reignite in your soul,
Passion thrashes through your mind
And your blood remembers how to run
To a beat long overlooked and forgotten.
 
'Nice day' you say
And fail to convey the surrounding majesty.
They nod, smile, and raise an eyebrow
Symphonies sing in your soul
There are endless colours in your palette.
 
A neighbour passes by
You each raise a hand and
Exchanging regards.
They do not see near you
The stranger shaking your world.
 
The wild god asks for the time
And you blink and try to think
Asking yourself the same question
Ageless desire thrums  
In your spine. You dance.
 
Oh, unending time
Oh, uncountable marvels
Oh, infinite miracles of every small thing
Oh, the wonders of life
Oh, the fantastical joy of it all.
 
You blink again,
Extricating the desire and
Watch clouds pass by
Wondering how the time passed
And where your dreams went.
 
The wild god reaches into a coat
Made of butterfly wings and spider silk
Pulls out a book,
Traces a line with finger and speech
And all the earth begins to rumble.
 
Your blood boils over.
Thoughts rush over each other.
Your muscles judder and shake.
The birds drop to the ground.
Your neighbour both hopes and despairs.
 
The wild god opens their mouth.
You move with all music
The clouds pull back in the sky
And the moon peeks forth
A car alarm crescendos and fades.
 
In the distance, ships scrape from sea beds
Ancient weapons grow like cornrows in the fields.
Everyone remembers long faded daydreams.
The roads rattle and bricks clatter
To hopes and madness and pleasure.
 
'Why did you not take me with you?'
Asks the wild god and you say:
'I grew up and older.
The parties were all cancelled;
I forgot your address. I'm sorry.'
 
Feel them;
 
The rushing in your blood and
The singing in your soul and
The passion and the desire and the dreams...
The great un-nameable beats
In your brain and your bones and your heart...
 
There is a revolution of spirit.
An orchestra of change.
The wild god cock their head and
You flinch against a tree holding a letter,
A twig and a finger covered in cobwebs.
 
The birds coo in the trees above.
Your neighbour is walking further down the street.
Your stomach aches from laughing
Your limbs ache from dancing or exertion.
A photograph is in your pocket.
 
Maybe a wild god will cross your path.
They are terrible to behold
And do not know the ways
Of machine, of media, and of magazines
Their voice makes tales that twists time.