Like the land around here, I carry an inverse tangle
of roots close by. Nourishment, speech, tooth-grit anger
born in this calcium cavern until something rots through
and pain begins. And in the deep places we walk together,
my pain and I, torch in hand we walk to where gratitude lives
and draw the blurry outline of self-awareness, my jawbone
slaying clarity and sense. Transformed, chewed up, laid out
in the endodontist’s chair, new healers meet old healers in
the deep places and bless my branching stalagmite’s root.
Back from the dentist. Whew.
And on a tenuously related note, the new Festival of the Trees is up at Lorianne's blog. Go see what's rooted there!