pitch dark soil is burying deep
the cold young roots
spreading to the center of the earth
toward water, away from air,
away from light
cultivating power

their pointy fingers are wiggling
replacing tears with nutrients
carving the pith and sapwood vessels
so leaves can taste the water then the flowers will bloom

those stem that lives among numerous lignin
in the middle of the widened tree rings
life is spinning,
be still and silent in the heartwood’s tomb

root is like a mother,
who gave her entire life
being fragile in silence
when the stem is rising,
twigs are opening up their canopies,
leaves are curling,
thousands of times till they touch the ground
when death is the only
time for them to be united

Poetry Prairie – 2015