Roots

the exile far from the homegrown this mud pile hidden by the hedgerow of old time out West where the sun sets its sore raw burnt wound into the ocean of my blues, night soothes in moonstruck currents warm water of the deep like a baby in its mother's womb resurfacing in dawn's blushed seize on my lips a tune the soul salt salved and onto the land where the ocean sets its dying waves pass the golden sands the fragrance in the hills and dales my will to plant and tonight I look to the East long to tie with the roots that did feed me my eyes on the moonlight guiding my steps my dream in the new Spring, revived the circle to set where the sun rises into eternal rest © 04.30.16