Rooted

Michele Rule

On days when standing is so difficult
I am uprooted,

long to feel the soil beneath my feet.
Please take me to the park
at the end of the street.

Leave me to lie by the bridge
that crosses the rushing creek.
Let me sink in the mud
until I become part of the earth.

Let the sun and the rain
run over me,
overtake me.
Saplings sprout from my skin,
taking all I have to give.

Birds will gather in new branches,
deer will lie in the shade, unafraid.
As I nurse the forest
from the depths of me,
I will be at peace.

The Science

When a tree falls in the forest, it becomes a nurse tree, allowing fungi, mushrooms, and saplings of all kinds to grow off its remains. The new trees use the energy and nutrients stored in the fallen tree as sustenance. I was thinking of this symbiotic relationship when I wrote my poem and also a relatively new form of burial that I am considering where the body is buried and a tree is planted over top, allowing the nutrients to be shared and turned into new life.

The Poet

Michele Rule is a disabled writer from Kelowna BC. She is especially interested in the topics of chronic illness, relationships, and nature. Michele is published in The Pine Cone Review, Five Minute Lit, Spillwords, WordCityLit, and the Lothlorien, and the anthologies Spring Peepers, Chicken Soup for the Soul, and Poets for Ukraine, among others. She is an associate member of the League of Canadian Poets. Michele’s first chapbook is Around the World in Fifteen Haiku. Michele lives in a beautiful garden surrounded by people who love her just the way she is.

Next poem: Sunburst Lichen by Valerie Sopher