As I mentioned, the ToL course asked us to focus on roots this week. I was struck by an ash with a rabbit warren among its roots.
I'd read that animals like to use roots as supports for their burrows. They too appreciate oak beams and ash floors.
Not sure how keen the tree was - though I imagine the rabbits are the least of its problems.
Anyway. Looking into the holes, I paused for a moment. Imagining myself diving in... shrinking myself and burrowing in.
When I got home, I meditated, just imagining the sinking into the darkness and soil-smell of the earth, along with the roots. I wrote this.
Underground
This is the reverse climb. Claws grasp; dig deep,
releasing scents for the one sense that matters.
Gravity grounded where the fall is all
and time is unbound from its love of light.
Here roots belay me down into the wild-
est of all wild kingdoms. I scrape and swim
through multitudinous mind-parts of the
one great mystery.
The dark realm unseen,
enfolding, containing and firing forth
the grand, ungovernable gestation
of life.
Love the poem. You take me to the dark and mysterious Under-Land of Roots and Soil-Smells. Well done! And I like the Rabbit Home too 🐇 x