What is the way we wake?
At the center of the center we feel a break.
Some fragile root escapes,
And slips from the seed of us,
From the place we were planted,
From the place we were placed.
As for the divot we were dropped in,
It’s holy ground.
But now that we’ve reached across
The underground rooting through the dark,
The scoop of time once meant for us
Will turn to leaf and lark.
Rise from your own depths,
Whoever left you here;
The furrows trench,
The rains drench,
The earth holds all the secrets in its universal plot,
To what is the way we waken,
And what is the way we sought.
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