My Soul in My Roots

My Soul in My Roots

Sap segues into –


nodes to nodules,

bark to stem,

vein to leaf,

of a juggernaut tree.


Its immanent force

believes in its roots—

to feed, to grow

to enlighten, to glow

until branched off,

dry and worn in despair.


Mimes no judgment,

the equable reels—

mighty or dainty,

consonant or vowel,

odd or even.


Just like—

the vein and the leaf

of the enormous tree,

mortal being prone to fall;

I believe in my roots—

the Indian peninsula,

the green sea-coasts,

the multitude mountains–


to feed my spirit

with peace,

with courage,

with love.




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