To the Root
A wise and learned man once said to me
You must be willing to go to the root.
Though I thought the words were for another
As I felt I had been at my root
The engagement was penetrating and noted.
Stayed with me it did
Always travelling inward toward some deeper
Understanding of my way of being in the world.
Knowing myself to be of good cheer and a warm heart
Wishing to have that become my way, each and everyday
I wondered why I could be seen as something else
When I knew my root was pure and my intentions and desires simplistic.
I was hurt by the interpretations and judgments of my existence
My footprint on the earth.
How could it be that I was seen so opposed to what
I have always known myself to be.
Then one day as I laid down in the Centre of my wound
I discovered that the terror and helplessness I carried in my root
Bound me and robbed me of my true way.
Facing this pain, this unconscionable truth gathered when I was just a
Small and vulnerable child
Had set my course, locked me solid
Closed off the channels
Deadened the body.
Out it did come
Though not without great willingness
Bravery to face my root.