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
Copyright © Caroline Cécile Delacroix | Year Posted 2016
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