Moving On ~ ~ ~

It is this that I crave:
a place to be
to grow
season to season
tomorrow rooted in today
tendrils reaching through the past
growing deeper into time
stretching higher into space
a world of order
a sense of place.

A woman who fears the tremor
shouldn’t settle on the fault
or plant herself where soil’s been known to shift.
My life it seems is always set in change
and growth must come within the midst of this.

With angry cry protesting —
then accepting —
the severing from all that’s been,
with roots in pocket
I move on,
-Marily Zdenek


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