En Route
They push deep into the earth
searching, feeling,
wayfaring without seeing
the stars above.
Hidden in the dark
beneath the mantle,
where light is not seen
but is a conceptual thought.
Boring through rock
with driven desire
and an undeniable calling.
Charred by the centre's fire
when veered off course,
lost along the way,
but never for long.
Regeneration of the tender and raw
drawing strength from its own ash,
petrified former self,
and rest earned
in a bed of ancient stardust.
Recalculating roots,
their only compass,
your vibrational signal,
of which theirs is the very same.
Quivering, shaking,
pushing and drawing nearer
in never ending exhaustion
because you must,
go deep
and so far
so you can
eventually
touch.
When I feel disconnected I meditate and imagine my feet growing roots that push into the core of mother earth, so I feel “in touch”.
I found my inspiration in Aaron Quist ‘s poem today,
as we are connected by breath above and roots below.
