Where the Wild Things Grow

Where the Wild Things Grow

For my father, Flint McGlaughlin,

Who taught me to cherish beauty, to love living, and that life without beauty and passion is not living at all.

Find me where the sunlight shines

‘Twixt the running river and climbing pines

Slumber under the wolf’s lullaby

Where the greenwood wind cries

Where earth under bone can feed my soul

With the heat of a flame to chase the cold

Where fireflies dance at forest’s fold

Under starlight’s crystal lull

Where God spreads blanket of lilac and rose

Over gaping fields for my heart to roam

And the moaning oaks stoically pose

Where the wild things grow

Where the clouds sleep on mountains high

And the horizon folds into edge of sky

Bids farewell to Moon’s knowing smile

And Nature hums her breezy sigh

Where earth trades dirt for green and gold

The secrets of the sacred organic are told

The world is cast in Beauty’s mold

I am home.

- Quin McGlaughlin