My roots grew confused
One half of me foraged to the left, seeking distance, finding refuge in the dark.
The other half stayed small, hoping the sunlight would find them but I was quick to learn, sunlight doesn’t need to seek.
I grew detached, split in two and my weight never distributed evenly.
‘So be it’, thought I. ‘I’ll just continue to grow this way’.
And over the years I grew but my foundations were flaky, always conflicting and because of this I grew a little wonky.
It wasn’t so bad and I didn’t stand out too much, as those around me were a little wonky too.
When the storms blew I lost many pieces, rigid stems broke quickly as they refused to lean into the current.
As I was wonky, I lost more on one side and as I aged I found it harder to renew and as all my gusto seeped away, I stopped trying. Slowly I began to wilt.
I was tired and despondent yet restless and curious.
And then one day curiosity got the better of me as if I didn’t do something soon, I would surely rot.
I felt an intense need to shake.
To rip apart known structures and see what happens.
So I did exactly that.
I shook so vigorously that others looked at me with disfavour.
I wriggled and jiggled and rippled with such force that dormant life living in soils below woke up.
The earth began to move. Each organism scuttled, searching for new comforts.
And in those moments of complete disarray, I retrieved damp roots to dry them off and released all I was sheltering into the sunlight.
The whole of me swayed and for a second I thought I might fall, but I didn’t. My roots intertwined, warmly embracing the lost.
And my foundations spread out, they deepened. One root never far from another, I was supported by my very own community.
Water reached the tips of me.
Life crawled up my strengthening frame.
The further I reached, the more life I could welcome.
I felt integral, I still do. I feel necessary.
And now I am thriving
Now I am alive.