everything has a root.
it doesn’t matter who planted it.
it is growing now, here
in your soil.
follow it down, follow it
down into the earth.
then dig.
dig with your hands, dig with your bare feet.
don’t be afraid.
it is only dirt
under your nails.
it can all wash away, anything can be cleaned again.
made to shine again, even cracks can be filled
with gold.
and the rain is coming.
lift your face to the heavens, and smell
the water.
are you ready?
what you hear at first, that thing that climbs up your throat on
a trellis of ivy
is not always the leaf attached to the bone, sometimes
you speak
but a child comes out of your mouth, hurting
searching
for something, but
what?
everything has a root.
follow it down, into the soft, moist earth
to where it lies pale, and
naked.
it is not dead.
just buried a long time ago.
it breathes, it has been waiting
for you.
listen, find the thread.
don’t be afraid, there is nothing to fear
here.
it was just a seed once.
sit with it, ask for its name.
it already knows yours.
come, come over here, and sit with it.
it needs you, needs
your presence.
if you ask it what it wants, it will say
kindness, and
to be seen for what it is—the beginning, the place
where your hunger started, where
your fear began to grow.
everything has a root.
it doesn’t matter who planted it.
it is growing now, here
in your soil.
follow it, follow it down into the earth.
open it up so that the light can fall on it, then
cover it with kindness, water it
with love.
ask it again for its real name, then
go.
go about your day, your one beautiful life.
make tea. make beds. make
love.
life
is a short season.
you know everything you need to know, now.
everything has a root.
everything has a real name.
everything that is hungry in your bones was planted a long time ago.
everything needs kindness, everything
needs love.
it doesn’t matter who planted it.
it is growing now, here
in your soil.
— everything has a name. everything needs love.
© Liezel Graham 2020.
Image by Annie Spratt on Unsplash.
I have been dwelling on this theme quite a lot the last couple of days—this taking the time to fully recognise the real emotion that I am feeling in a given moment.
Recognising that my feelings and hurts and fears are rooted in something deeper, something that often was planted when I was young and perhaps, unable to deal with it in a way that would minimise its effects on me.
Much of what we feel; that comes out of our mouth when we are upset, or angry, is rooted in something else.
It has a different name.
It doesn’t need guilt, or uprooting, or destroying.
It needs kindness, and love and compassion.
I have been challenging myself to stop in the middle of overwhelm, or sadness, or anger even, and to find its real name…to follow the thread back to when it was planted, and then I cover it with love and kindness and compassion.
May I encourage you to do the same?
Much love,
liezel
liezel graham 