The Wanderer Poem by Katrina Harms

when their hands moved
and my throat closed
it was then I knew
there was no time to
swallow all they gave me
Forced to wander,
I drift unknowing, all feeling
the way I once was
when my tears made the music
when my blood fed the rivers
in heaven's deepest sanctuaries.
When it was solely soul,
without measure or science.
The human is bent on complicating
a born-simple world.
We bend truth, confuse ourselves, break down.
And when all is lost
the girl will look up and say,
'It's done, then? '
And we will know that we
may now walk away.