My Roots Are Blooming
I know you can’t see fruit / or flowers / or leaves / in these ragged winter branches / bent and buckled by gravity / arms and palms and fingers / grasping for air / grabbing and sunshine / counting dry years / beckoning birds / to stop breaking off twig fingers / to actually make their nests here / not to make nests out of me //
But under this dusty ground / I am blooming / deep / deep / deep into the earth / colours course down this taproot spine / branch out in rivers of light / aurora arms stretched wide / in streams of surrender or delight / and pool into fistfuls of flowers / haven’t you noticed the glow? / beneath your feet / when you hang / your weight on my stickly arms / to see / if I’ll hold you //
I am better seen by blind moles / better heard by deaf earthworms / kept better company by ant colonies / better known by the roots of those planted beside me ///.