Blame it or Praise it...

I love this quote. Woolf perfectly calls to the wild and untamed piece inside of every one of us. It's the reason we are spontaneous, stubborn, unpredictable, capricious, volatile, and beautiful. In short, it speaks to our humanity.

Prompt:

Write a poem about something or someone intangible, untamable, and wild in the best way possible. You can also think about the people you love or have loved: do they have this wildness? Are they easier or harder to love? Is it worth it in the end?

Food for thought, friends.