Rooted

A New Poem

It’s No Kings Day, and I’m thinking about the chaos of our times and of where we maintain or gain strength.

The wind ruffles the needles and 
	boughs of the pines.
	
All appears to be motion and dance, 
	but the reaching roots hold the trees steady.

There is such quiet strength in
	what dwells and dives down

Into dark places not stirred by 
	the swinging shifts above.

Even though the branches sway,
	and it seems chaos in the visible world,

All is held fast by what abides
	deep within.