Roots On the Trail Up Gavan's Hill

Roots On the Trail Up Gavan’s Hill

A lit candle in the forest is smoke
with a gust of wind.

This path up Gavan’s Hill erodes
from the ever-trickling rain,
And as I walk this trail,
I loosen desires to be anywhere but here.

In winter, even the boardwalks buckle
under the pounds of hard packed snow...
But roots,
Roots persist.

Woven into the earth,
like fingers interlaced in damp tangles,
These roots hold riches.

We humans walk,
scraping the skin of the earth
laying bare the braided strength:
Roots shining in the forest like no candle ever could.

Creator, let me take root,
and shine of peace.