I quit
a long time ago,
stretching my legs
across the high places.
She,
that unassuming mistress,
coaxed me down
from above the clouds
and held me down,
for a little while.
Never really knew I needed water,
that taproot split the soil
and I sipped,
all at once
from the fountain
in the middle
of creation.
Oh, I was a mess,
my mind strewn about the face of the world
like children’s toys;
discarded
and neglected.
She swept me up,
she brushed me off
and trimmed back
all my wild and unruly branches,
that I might be as pleasing to the eye
as she inexplicably found me.
Some might say,
that the roots are binding,
like a skillful web,
or satin knots cinched tightly,
but I still move through the stars
and across the sky;
for now I am one with the world
that moves through the universe
at a thousand miles an hour.
There are mysteries
within mysteries
and the cost of answers ,
mortality for the reckless.
Sometimes,
the restraints are there
for safety reasons
and it is better to be the tree
than the crash test dummy.
Trust to seek up high,
and low,
for in the unknown lies
that one missing connection
to the other side,
where we can know the divine
and the truth is revealed;
that it’s better to go through the looking glass
than the windshield.
HG – 2017
