Writing Prompt

Having my feet truly naked

on the ground,

feeling the blades of grass

as a connection with the soil,

my ancestors live through me.

They were traveling in time through

the Egypt, the Mesopotamia,

the Balkans, the Mediterranean Sea.

I am traveling with them

as a nomad human

and a Gypsie carrying multiple origins.

I am looking for my land

to pass down my heritage, my truth

and that of my forefathe...

The roots of the tree, the building foundation of a life;

They’re minds brilliant and as sharp as a knife.

The grandparents, the parents, the young.

Just like the roots, the trunk, the leaves for some fall fun!

Growing a tree can show you a family’s stages,

The age of the different areas of a tree ranges.

The deep roots are the upbringing of you,

Everyone should appreciate the deep roots, so do!...

The days aren’t wasted watching the birds.

Splashing in their bath.

Eating at the feeder.

I even have a few different species nested in the old elm out front.

Hundred and thirty years old if a day.

After we’re all dead and gone, it’ll remain.

I eat my meals outside with the birds.

It’s nice to have company, you know.

I sit at my table on the patio drinking my tea.

I hate my neighbors and their dam...

It is a gnarled at, wilting tree, on the edge of death.

It’s hard to tug at deep roots, they’re stubborn and tough, many scars from the dogs from the wheat fields beside the tree and the scuttling from under.

It’s a feeble tree, family having died, the only being old or childless. Its roots can grow stronger with that, almost all the scars were caused by its own, if only there was vodka to pr...

Rooted and grounded in his love

This love, is definitely from above!

Immeasurable, as far as the east from the west

He will love me forever, always the best

His love is deeper than any trees roots

Deeper than any river

Fuller than a quiver

My roots dig deep down

By him I want to be found

Having his salvation

Is my foundation

This love from above

Forever rooted and grounded in his divine love...

What have we but branches

that reach for the sky?

Upwards, we're growing,

There's no telling how high.

What have we but leaves

Which inevitably fall?

With shifting of seasons,

There is change for us all.

What have we but memories

Of all that we've known?

Downward we're spreading,

From seeds that were sown.

What have we but ourselves

And the roots that will hold,

Our potential and importance

In ...

Title: Deep Roots

I come from soil that remembers pain—

from hands that tilled land under burning skies,

from grandmothers who hummed lullabies

while sweeping dust from their children’s eyes.

My roots run deep beneath my skin,

like old oak veins tangled in wind—

each scar a season, each wrinkle a ring,

each silence a story my elders didn’t sing.

The roots are not always pretty—

sometimes they r...

(IM BACK YALL!! HAD SOME TRAUMA SO NOW ITS TIME TO WRITE ABT IT)

I got a blast from the past today

It was you, of course, all my memories are of you

A waitress, tattooed with a symbol from a movie you cherished so deeply

It brought me back

Back to you, our friendship, and now the crushed ruins of it all

The waitress, who unknowingly sparked a flurry of thoughts of you in my head

It wasn’t her...

There is much pride in being a farmer

By tilling the soil and utilizing the marrow of the earth you create life for many

By yourself, independent and grounded

Building the foundation for yourself and others

Creates community...

My roots are tangled, confused and spread wide.

Across the country and even across the globe.

They draw water from two different worlds.

I am both, I am everything, I am me....