bare roots and mycelium
spans of trees
with wrinkled epithelium
lungs breathe in and now exhale
weight me here

stormy skies and sun and spire
point up to the spirit man
cleanse our souls of muck and mire
root my anchor
drop me here

bare my feet and feel the soil
stand firm ground and find it solid
acquiesce the need to toil
sit me down
my home is here

From ashes

It’s ok to be different
It’s you, after all
In you there is no different
Only you, at the centre, branching out
Powered geothermally from within
Your hot core radiant
Enough to warm your soul
And to keep you charged Read More