The Root

I am walking in the woods.
Just wanting to enjoy nature.

To be a human being.
Be myself.
Be free.

I take a look up.
And get scared.

Half of the trees are dead already.
Because of the drought.
Lacking water.

The life substance.

Just as in my life.
Half of it is already gone.
And I am dying, slowly.

I am dying of thirst.
Because the lack of love.

Then, suddenly,
you peek out of the ground.
Very small.
Half buried in the earthly moss.

A root.
Who wants to dip deep, reaching the water,
but cannot.
Because a huge rock is blocking you,
and forces you to your crooked growth.

And so, I trip over you,
and fall blindly,
with full force.

There I lie, on the fresh forest ground,
wondering, amazed,
what just happened.

Get up,
luckily unhurt,
and laugh loudly.

I was lucky, this time.

But I think of you.
And why you made trip me over you
and let me so brutally fall.

I think about your journey,
deep down in the ground.
And what made you come to the surface. To me.

It are the small roots,
our stumbling blocks,
which keep us falling down,

to remind us,
on which path
and with which sight
whereto

we wander in the soul forest.

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