Prescribed Burn 

Deep inside my wilderness, 

a disease has taken root. 

My evergreens have dropped their needles, 

my moss has decayed, 

my soil is parched. 

I need a fire to ravage through me, 

to sweep through my acres, 

engulfing my dead, 

tired and broken parts. 

Clear away what once was - 

the memories of past, 

the who once were, 

the pain. 

I need a wind to roar through my lungs, 

picking up all the dust that the fire leaves,

blowing it all away. 

I need a rain to come, 

drenching my soul with a cleansing 

touch. 

I need a sun to shine, 

promising a new day 

ahead. 

And then one day, 

my wilderness will be 

strong again. 

Children will sit under my branches, 

birds will sing my songs, and I 

will grow again.