Roots

I find myself pondering as I pull weeds. Cavernous twinges of winding life branch and wrap around the pebbles of my path. Entwined richness gripping beneath the earth, yearning to leave their mark within the hollows. While the sun dances and the wind sings, ever growing, the leafy wings of time tell a story. The story of my youth, the journey of my heritage. It's where I have found my roots.

As I whisk away the bulbous forms, which show their heads within this rockbed, I think of you. The ones whom have nourished me and remained the same with unchanging hearts upon a firm foundation. I envelope the tools once held dear in your hands and sense your presence beside me. Unearthing the original scalloped stones once laid and now lovingly discovered and restored. These pebbles bear the imprints of times past and welcome me in the present. I know where I have come from and where I am going.

Those memories of darkness, the weeds of the mind, show themselves more freely as I call upon them. Not afraid of their truth and I am ready to face them. Before they can be shed of their hold, I dare entertain their time untold. I break their heads, their greedy grip, and toss the chaff of mossy residue. Clearing my vision to that of the new I hope in the morning glories rising daily in the weaving of my spirit. It is here I have found where I belong. Unashamed, I sing the joy of my life song.

In loving memory.