Roots

There was some mention 

Of new roots taking hold

In rich soil

Looking back I can’t say

If it was like that for me

Or if I knew

The feeling of the sun yet

And the ache to grow toward

Warm rays

Which was present, like the desire

A child has to run and play

Outside

Rootedness was messy back then

Feeling caught in something I could not

Escape

With the hot breath of insanity 

Threatening to consume me

I held on

Knowing that a new soil might

Feed my impoverished, imperfect soul

I held on

Through rain, and cold, and heat, and battering wind

And gentle days, inviting inner strength

I held on

Slowly a garden, a wood, and grassy plain

All appearing in the care of unseen force

I was humbled

Accepting a world not of my making

Brought to a location I had not known existed

Undeserved

And when I looked up and saw

Flowing pink coat, softly wrapping around you like 

Rose petals

I saw the garden was in bloom 

And the good soil producing miracles 

Again

I dropped to my knees, hands moving earthwards 

Like fish seeking blessed immersion 

And grace