Rooted: he stood. Although... he was down ...to his very last leaf.
Almost fully bare, he shivered there ..just a bit within the wind,
as what looked like some... tornado or cyclone was about to hit.
He sighed, as he always did, & yet... he too stood grounded ...rooted..
& ready... for this cycle's monsoon season, with grit.
I try not to get rooted down
but my love runs deep through these hills
where syrup trickles in the spring down maple bark.
The forest oozes with life
in the rebirth of spring;
where birds nestle in the dark nooks
of my roof and sing through the night;
where green eyes haunt
the graveyard of my bedroom.
I had to leave.
This nostalgia has a bite to it
like a song on the tip
of my tongue like a tobacco leaf I sing
Love me then leave me alone.
It’s not a turn-on.
I just need time for introspection,
self-taught love, oh how the self is caught
trapped in one place too long.
understand this is why we are strange to each other
becoming strangers to each other.
You know my favorite fruit
how I take my coffee.
Heart of a pomegranate, this girl
hard to break open.
I don’t fall apart for
need to milk and sugar me up
swirl my galaxies
turn me a lighter shade of myself.
Always feeling the same dull grey
of an overcast sky inside
my chest where a bird used to flutter
at the drop of your name.
All that’s left is an empty nest
sky blue eggs with nothing inside.
Planted by the river of Living Waters,
I remain rooted and grounded in Christ;
He provides for my thirst, my hunger,
my Salvation and my everlasting Life.
With the foundation of Biblical Truth,
I’m rooted and grounded in the Holy Word;
the application of its principles gives
my heart hope with peace that’s assured.
When walking in holiness and rectitude,
I stay rooted and grounded in God’s love;
His Essence softly embraces me with grace,
as new mercies stream… from Heaven above.
Prov 12:3; 2 Sam 22:2-3, 47; Psa 1:3;
Rom 3:22; Lam 3:22-23
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
I could still smell lavender, hinted
winds from the east I’d once caressed.
And I could still smell that Lavender
When I look down to watch the ants
scurry. Once more, I could still smell
Lavender come empty and my life In
a bubble atop the world. And at last,
the Lavender’s gone, when trees root
I felt the knife drag across my heart
Years after we carved one in this tree
I only felt the repercussions after it killed me
Now I'm drowning in the blood of the tree
Mingled with tears from the sky
I feel at one with nature.
The skies cloud over,
the smell of thunder taints the air,
and the rain begins to fall
from my eyes.
There's a book of poetry
in the lines of my hands,
that no one wants to read.
I've lived my life,
rooted in her darkness,
arms catatonic as a tree.
Unable to run or cry,
when her other prunes my flowers.