Sunday, December 9, 2012

grounded

Image: Tree Roots. Vincent van Gogh. July 1890


sometimes i like to pretend
that i have roots
that stretch fathoms
 into the earth

circling around those
pleistocene bones
grounding me (today)
in hummus and clay

traveling into Hade's realm
and knotting into
other roots, of birch
of elm

i would need many roots to hold me fast
because i might look up at the sky
one night when there is no 
moon to clear away the mist

and just
let
go

(breathe
sigh
roots drink deep
sleep

as above my head
the burning stars go by)

6 comments:

  1. Breathing,sighing looking at the stars is food for the soul. Everything must be nourished or it withers and dies. Nice poem and remember...eyes to heaven:)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh, that pull from both directions what a choice! Safe mother earth or boundless eternity. This poem has a great pull in itself.

    ReplyDelete
  3. The underground has much to offer..the smell of the Earth..the cool soil that somehow keeps you warm..perhaps it is a good place to keep 'your' feet..peeking above soil can be magical..I do love the way you weave myth and legend..and yet make me feel as if it is today..perhaps a little of your world..

    ReplyDelete
  4. very nicely done.. thanks for sharing

    ReplyDelete
  5. calm , beautiful , serene and so peaceful !

    ReplyDelete
  6. I like the grounding down and then the pulling up. The balance between the perfect spot!

    ReplyDelete