August 19, 2018

They caught me while I fell off the edge

Without reaching out they caught me

The roots of trees that belong so deeply to the earth      

That though on the surface, they remain mere stumps


They stand as they truly were

Wearing none of the green we humans call growth

They stand whole

And cradled by these roots

Sheltered for a little while

In the space between the acceptance of death and death itself

I once again forget the ingrained over-importance

Of a tomorrow alive

And suddenly,

I know myself

I remember myself.

Each second feels another beautiful eternity

That is my very own to mold and to cherish

And it makes me weep with such thankfulness and joy

To plant my bare feet

Upon this ground I now stand

And remember

The way trees do

I know myself

Made of Sand
Not Dura, but Alaminadura

    Leave a Reply

    This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.