Well Rooted

We aren’t born well rooted
Once the umbilical cord is cut
We are buffeted from group to group
Like a pinball

And we think the lucky one
Is the one who plays the longest
10 points for this, 40 points for that
What a success, a gold watch!

After years of playing
I found my home in the gully
No bright lights, no expectations
It felt good, this nothingness

And then it happened
The first root reaching, reaching
Into the darkness of unknowing
Into the mystery

And the shock of Aliveness
Shot through me
As I connected–plugged
Into the infinite vastness

My one star
Burst into millions of sparks
And in that death
I came alive.

Poem and digital art: bjbeyers

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