Home 3

A Poem by redzone

….***….

Home 3

Well, it finally stopped raining,

the sun is burning away

morning mist and fog,

disappearing, then appearing again

as it rises in the sky.

The garden survived

with most plants

growing and greener;

it seems they loved

their time in the wet.

So too, did the weeds.

Weeds are sturdy things,

survivors,

and if allowed,

will over run a garden.

Weeds will spread,

unless you pull out their roots.

So, I began to think about roots.

Roots

and Home.

Is homme our roots;

or is home where we spread too?

Kunta Kinte was up rooted from his home,

stripped of his culture,

language, whipped and beaten,

shackled as if he wasn’t human,

and brought here

to these shores.

He and millions more

were forced to make a new home

with deep roots.

A home that has many such “weeds”.

It is strange to realize

almost all the flowers we see

were once weeds,

growing wild,

and wildly,

creating vivid, colorful landscapes,

even before humans

altered their DNA with hybrids.

But then, humans are also hybrids,

Cross pollinated over time’s eons.

But home and roots

have many such stories.

As I work on the garden,

pulling out weeds by their roots,

my thoughts turn to you

(something I am unable to stop).

The home you seek,

and the way your life has spread out

with deep roots;

how your interaction

with the world around you

has created a colorful vista.

A vista with wild and wildly

exciting flowers;

like the way lilies are white,

poppies red,

roses pink,

and tulips yellow,

all once growing freely everywhere.

As I finish in the garden,

I realize again,

I love my fingers in the soil

and that my roots too have spread,

they also have led me back home.

And realize my garden would be better

with a flower like you in it,

growing, spreading, taking root

making everything bright.

Aztec Warrior/redzone 7.26.18

© 2018 redzone

Author's Note

....thanks for reading....

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charlie

When you talk of almost all flowers of today were once weeds, I thought of the Dandelion. Still considered a weed and the bane of all devoted lawn keepers - and yet that thing, the marvellous dandelion - is so very good for both the body and soil, alike.

But then, you shifted my thoughts from pragmatic to spiritual ( I skipped right over carnal), with your lovely last stanza. Thoughts beautifully expressed. They hit home.