Sunday, April 12, 2015

Roots




The ground swirls around my feet—
fibrous tendrils twist and embrace, overlap, then veer off
heading down
deep below.
They know something, these roots,
feet of the forest, limbs of the world.

Why don't I know?


I stand in solitude
alone but not really. The earth vibrates
melodies that dance through my soul. I strain to hear more, to learn, 
to understand.

My humanness, the desire to know, fails me.

I allow my own roots, my sanctuary, to travel down to stretch beyond what I know here, now, on this surface of Clay and Rock, Leaf and Bark ... and Bone, there is Bone here and Feather, Fur, remnants of Blood. Life has lived and died here, ceased breathing, dissolved, become one.

It holds me up, this life that once was.
It is my foundation, my strength.
I sink down into its depths.
I feel spirit move and breathe within.



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