Roots is a mother earth poem, a celebration of the abundance and solidity of our planet to be shared by all creatures great and small.
Roots – Mother Earth Poem
I’m a stray on the seashore
like the tree
roots bind me to the earth.
Nothing binds me to my faraway home, to the blood and the rubble.
Not hope and not love.
Nothing makes me want to return to where I came from.
Not a thing
I hear no echoes of my name,
I see no leaves that would clothe me,
I do not speak words, begging.
I’m a stray on the roadside
like the tree
roots bind me to the earth.
Nothing binds me to the home I lost, to the stove and the broth.
Not hope and not love.
Nothing lets me return to where I came from.
Not a thing.
I hear no one calling my name,
I see no one waiting for me.
I do not speak, asking.
I’m a stray in the crowd
like the tree
roots bind me to the earth.
Nothing binds me to him or her, to you or those people over there.
Not hope and not love.
Nothing makes me want to stay where I am.
Not a thing.
I hear no love,
I see no love,
I speak no love.
How will I pass the time?
How will I glide across the witching hour
into dawn’s warmth?
Roots
bind me
to the earth
who says
nothing separates her and me.
Not even I.
Not chains and not cuffs.
The earth’s breath,
a keeper of roots,
its rhythm a drum,
a beat binding roots.
The trees rise
dressed in green velvet,
drops of gold
invade the rough roots
with the indiscrimination of a hungry lion,
my roots,
his roots,
her roots,
north,
west,
east,
south.
24/7
Mother
binds me
and you,
and him,
and her
and them
and us
and the pigs
and the birds
and the butterflies
and the whales
and the elephants
and the moths
and the stars.
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