Roots

It was a long journey, a long way,

Deciding my niche, stood there

And gave a thought,

Where shall my dwelling place be ?

And there I found one, and recalled

“Like a tree all must find a place to grow and develop”

Just came in, and the roots are not too deep.

A horrid tempest struck my soul,

Wavering all along, cried for help,

Hold me!

None came, for it’s my life,

They had to hold onto theirs’

The blow was hard, hard to uproot me,

Beaten all along, fell to the ground

Heard a cry from deep within –

“Hey you, hold onto that moundful of Earth”

 And I did.

July 1995