Out There - Sonnet 7

My senses tuned, so tightly wound a cord,
The jungle calls to me, that serpentine,
Evasive, vigorous desire; o’er
To unknown land and yonder borderline.
I long to fly, to run, to walk, to crawl
Along the mountaintops and valleys low,
Through cities, oceans, wilderness and all;
However may I get there, there I go.
The windows seem to fog, and darkness set
In over forest glen and my own eye;
The lion in me roars, to not forget
The fire in my bones, the danger cry.
With every howl, my vigor seems to wane.
Oh, may I live to light that spark again!