Into the wild, she grew a spirit animal.
It kept her heart safe from human thought.
She let go of her mind, she grew fur.
She kept moving. She never stopped.
She swam, she fought, she flew.
She grew 100 feet tall
And chopped down trees with her teeth.
Her breath brought fear into the hearts of farmers.
She was a crop-destroyer, an animal-killer.
She was no longer human at all,
Except for one pinkie toe that refused
To grow fur. Her mind was quiet.
It had gone.
It was reduced to three simple thoughts,
One day a little red bird landed on her shoulder,
too young to know to be afraid.
It pecked at her a little.
She happened to glance
Directly into its eyes.
She felt a feeling.
And they lived happily ever after,
The mountains grew behind the trees.