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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