Intertwined, April 2012
These roots search for water deep, the tree of life.
Sometimes we run. Sometimes we stand.
Always share the fire.
With little faces reflections of our own.
My hammer
and your
desire.
A 15 foot around trunk stout and steady.
In the howling wind, and white snow.
Feed those rosy smilin' faces
with the warm strength built in places
way down deep
sacred parts
our hearts.
Every now and then branches fall.
In their place. Pink and white and golden.
Spring blossoms. Like our hands intertwined.
Not always. But forever.
Reaching and leaning
out on a limb
to see what we can find.
These roots run wild, free to love. Free to speak.
In my soul, and in yours as well.
Share that fire with our children,
never let 'em sell
spirit for money.
Love is the peak.
Your smile the honey.
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Thompson's Mills State Park in Shedd, Oregon
Copyright Ronald Borst - April 6, 2017
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