Hanging suspended
waiting in the still of day
reaching down to burrow
life-sustaining nourishment
much-needed on these times.
Do not touch for harm may come
a thousand roots run down to meet
the surface of the earth
hanging like vines that know
which is the right path to travel.
I stare at the twists and turns
attempting to make sense at times,
then remembering the simple truth
of just going with that flow
and trying to keep a light heart
when the darkness finds a space
like a root driving in deep and plumbing
the goodness that hides within.
Eyes close and breathe in the storm
sitting on the cusp of finding and striking
as clouds gather and the chimes toll,
we give thanks for the gift of water
and pray to survive this element
once more.
Peace, Love and Patchouli 