Feet on the ground.
Did the Earth
ever feel
so hollow?
Sink the roots deeper.
Got to find the source.
Got to find the soul
that’s gone missing.
There it is.
Right where it always was.
Couldn’t feel it
to touch it.
Like dying of dehydration
in the middle
of the ocean.
Or feeling alone
in a crowd.
We are such fickle things.
One moment,
fearless,
and almost
indestructible.
The next,
fragile.
Porcelain skin
and eggshell heart.
We look up,
and two things
capture our minds;
either the haunting beauty
of the starlit cosmos,
or the stark emptiness
of a cold and lonely universe.
Cloven in dichotomies.
We create our own,
even deeper divisions.
Insulating ourselves
from what sustains us.
Denying our own life,
our own existence.
Hands high
and feet deep.
Strange conduits
we become.
Above and below
somehow meeting
in the dendrites
of these unusual creatures.
Strip off
the outer layers.
Feel alive.
Feel everything.
DJR – 2023
