🪷 What’s Underground Is What Matters Most

a shape poem

                    I   try   to   be   
       strong   like   a   great   oak
           but  the   winds   of   life
  (the   work   to   do,   the   mouths   
      to   feed,   need    after    need,
 and   everywhere   so    much   suffering)
       would    push    and    pull    me
                     till    I    break   
                          unless 
                          I  stay
                        connected 
                          tightly
                          to   the 
                          unseen
                      underground
                           center 
                    of my lifeforce--
my real experience in each present moment,
                       my  feelings,    
               thoughts,  and   needs,    
             as   they    are,   not   as  
               I    wish    them   to   be,      
         relating  to  them  with  kindness--     
        for    what's    underground   is   what     
      matters    most--   what   keeps   me    
standing    strong,    whatever   winds   come.

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trees at Kanawha State Forest this weekend

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In the notebook

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