The Pecking Order

Tangled Dance

I’ve always been wild. My firsts steps were determined and wilful, my first bid for freedom. I couldn't be persuaded that girls should be proper and boys should be brave. Nor could I be man-handled into an order fashioned by man. Human thought and mind, would not shovel me into a concept, that would infringe on my freedom, my sense of self.

Life for me was an adventure an expression. For those around me – it was chaos.

Upturned noses tried to peck me into order, whilst their convoluted, chorus considered my shoddiness, my lack of breeding, my lack of care. I would not learn my place – there was no such place. for me.

I did not fit. Did not want to fit. I was the puzzle, their thing to fix. But my edges were rough and did not slide neatly beneath their guiding elbows.

I recall once, being curious about their bow and curtsey life, their gardens straight-laced and decorated with coloured petticoats. Stately tied with no room to grow – parched for sunshine, thirst for rain.

I did not brood on this for long. I did not need order to tell me who I was. For my garden was wilful and wild. Weed grew alongside flower and flower grew alongside weed - and in their tangled dance both flourished and both thrived.