The roots are buried in the earth
deep and strong and sure.
and yet they seem to feel no mirth
just innocent, unknowing, and pure.
The reeds seem to be reaching,
stretching for something just beyond their length.
yet it's something they will never reach
for their roots hold them back with everlasting strength.
The same roots which give them life,
seem to keep it from them.
Life giving, nurturing, bright.
Imprisoning, yearning, strife.
We, like reeds, are blowing in the wind.
Afraid to break free, but longing to live.
Copyright ©2001 Terri John
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