Old roots reach deep water,
travel through hardpan and stone
to the well beneath the earth.
There the wealth of many winters,
full with light upon the sea,
morning quiet and moving tide.
Moments that rise again
to heal the ache of darkness,
and feed the earth as I’ve been fed.
Reading of “Wealth of Winters” with music by Konrad Ruhland.
Don — Beautiful! Just what I needed this beautiful Sunday morning in Milwaukee. Thanks for sharing.
Don, I see that Mike McC. recognized your poem today. Thanks for the reflection.
That Water Well in the depths of Earth (mine) — from whence a certain divine Darkness quietly yet compellingly floats the rising tides of Change — whets my present moments, while it satiates any errant aches for futures of “Much”. Thanks to You, as Always, Deeply Rooted Don!