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Being Rooted

There is a grounding life does to you - a stretching as it ebbs and flows - when you're present to it, in the trees and rooted to dirt. You don't pretend-to-avoid when you're rooted. No. Pretending when you're rooted is how the stories come - how Earth Itself whispers through you all that has taken place atop Her bones. When you're rooted, Life takes up a home in your right eyeball and Death takes up a home in your left. And every day you look at the world with everything stretched tight between how it begins and how it ends. It makes your eyes water. A child laughing , a skull smiling - and you can't blink it away. Everything feels so precious, so temporary and you realize your bones are granite and you stand rooted, like a sentry, knowing you will never die, even as age fades you.

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