Here,
upon my perch
high
upon this hill
I am...
surrounded only by the waving arms
of grass.
Alone,
no other tree
to laugh with
upon the wind.
No brother or sister to
share roots with, with love.
Empty; the ground all around,
of other roots but
my own.
Dropped here;
I don't know when
but likely by a bird.
There are many nest
here, nestling in my arms.
I hold them as they chatter;
I listen.
Away,
far off,
in the distance,
there is my kind;
they are many
they are chatty
with their leaves wrestling
upon the wind;
I can hear them...
But here:
Independent
of others,
of those far away,
of any other roots,
absent of a friend,
I find my own
Independent reliance.
Deep,
my roots run deeper —
they must!
Below the ground,
beyond the subsoil;
where my roots,
holding me still, fixed,
Independent from the bonds
of the many,
are self-supporting.
Absent now...
of that old feeling,
that old depression
that old worry of being alone.
That old...
Yearning for a friend - ha!
A companion - ha!
No, I have learned —
I am strongest
Alone.
Those others
far, far away
chattering leaves upon the wind:
always talking
never listening
always arguing
never meditating
I used to ache for that. Ha!
No longer.
Here,
upon my perch
high
upon this hill
surrounded only by the waving arms
of grass
I understand now:
In the absence of others
I am freest —
Alone, Independent.
YOU ARE READING
Deep Roots
PoetryI used to yearn for the companionship of the many, and I did try so very hard in my younger years to obtain the affection from many different friends. However, my regular experience with the companies I kept was very one-sided, favoring the other mo...
