Roots

Here let me rest a little while-- where the soil is lush and yielding, where the trees reach out in one magnificent embrace of mother earth, silent teachers of an archetypal love that history could not disclose. Here let me co-create to meet consanguine shadows rising from maternal clay--here in the heartland where my dust congealed., where the breath is shared again, again. Moss invades the headstones; my fingers trace the names, while souls conjoin and know that first spark birthed within the cave burned hotter still in pilgrims' breasts, still spreads its heat across a continent, flaming in the eyes of youth, smoldering upon the page's edge and poised to leap and dance upon the open hearth, or to destroy. Enter, solitude, and in that place where roots descend, reach forth as tendrils intertwining with the past, there grows a new tellurian peace to trace the sun, earthbound and free, still calling from the ground to sons unborn, "Remember me." ~