Her Wyld Return

She once scaled the weeping willow,

Finding joy and shelter in her swaying, leafy space.

Beneath the ancient pine she made her bed,

With roots like fingers cradling her head.

Among the ferns she'd breathe their air,

Their wild perfume so rich and rare.

Her sanctuary stretched through meadows, hills, streams, and trees,

Where wonder flowed as boundless as the breeze.

In muddy waters splashing without care,

Building secret forts with twigs and prayer.

Brewing potions from the forest floor,

While dandelion wishes sought their soar.

Each day brimmed full with dreams yet to unfold,

Until time claimed the magic she could hold.

Decades later, as time passed, 

They still speak her name -

"Sarah's tree" remains the same.

All these years later, she's found her way

Back to the wyld heart where she used to play.

That untamed spirit, dormant but not lost,

Has called her home, not without cost.

For in her chest, that wyld soul still beats true,

As fiery as the sunset’s radiant hue.