The day comes
with its invitations,
a door that can be unlocked
by a thought, a window
whose light beckons
the soul out of its dark retreat
and, along a passageway,
the sound of familiar voices.
And here you are,
cramped for so long
in your space that the shape
of who you are has become fixed
and seized solid in its way.
Deep in its contemplative soil
it sleeps rootbound
in its own pot.
If you listen,
the world is rousing you
as you crawl out of your dream
and sit on the side
of your life, dangling your feet
over the abyss that surrounds
you and the shrinking island
of yourself.
Hear what is being said
and let the world welcome you
with all of its imperfections,
uncertainties and risk.
Fall into its arms,
recklessly and full of doubt,
towards love.
Categories:
rootbound, love, self, world,
Form: Free verse
Fertile incestuous rootbound
Plants flourish in the darkest stuff
Seeds planted spring coming round
Winters' cold and snowing tough
Bulbs of flowers sprigs of weeds
Up and coming in the spring
Mother Natures' Godfelt deeds
Shoots of color when the Larks' sing
Flourish of beauty dreams of sun
Melting snow icicles hang from above
Summers' coming beaches of fun
Fires crackling moods of love
And here I lay covered in wool
Dreaming of sand and sun
Fires' flickering stomachs full
Beaches are close so is the fun.
Categories:
rootbound, beautiful, environment, fantasy,
Form: Bio
Coming out on the porch this morning after the sun had risen far above the horizon...I
noticed that my herbs looked wilted. Checked but not really dry just potbound or rootbound
in too small of a container..Life___how many of us are potbound or rootbound contained in a
container that we outgrew years ago___stuck, complacent not growing and soon will die from
starvation because we can't receive the nourishment from the source of our total being the
giver of life the One Who gives the Living Waters....In the next few days I will get larger
pots, fresh soil, and remove those plants..distrub their roots...Repot them giving their root
system room to grow..They will come out giving me fresh French Tarragon, and Lemon
Thyme all summer..I will enjoy watching them grow and produce....What about me? Will I
get out of the pot that is too small and grow?
Categories:
rootbound, faith, food, inspirational, introspection,
Form: Prose Poetry