ROOT POEM
Short, staccato like strands, root like a rhythm, stark
Root is Like a Wound
light in the darkness. Each, reminiscent of a seed. Unseen.
Every part of these sensitive fibers holds
the possibility of a world. Images
retain the residue of things; Roots
are gritty, white, bulbous and seeping, dark, fibrous, mouths sucking. Roots
are like fingers, their fleshy tips knot
and tangle, grope and search, feel through the darkness. Root,
like a wound, her myriad eyes within the earth. Her inner ear attuned
to underworld vibration, searching for moisture, weave
light in the depth, reveal invisible connections through a slow, turning motion. The root
is an elemental form, the wisdom of the ground and a virtue of interior light.
