Oasis

Identity is underground

 

Nourished by the

 

Sweet nectar of our collective,

 

Hurting yet,

 

Ever-giving Earth

 

Identity is

 

By nature convoluted

 

Not needing or

 

Crying out to be understood

 

All it craves is nourishment

 

And space to spread its roots

 

Identity:

 

A network comprising of

 

Roots 

 

Veins

 

Penetrating and,

 

Oh so desperately reaching!

 

Collectively crawling like newborns,

 

Forming a tangled mess just below the

 

Vivacious forest floor

 

Tripping over each other

 

Unbalanced and suspended in dirt

 

Arms outstretched

 

To no being or 

 

Entity in particular

 

Growing unpredictably and erratically

 

In an untraceable, indiscriminate path

 

Just like The 

 

Rose That Grew From Concrete

 

Identities grow around the

 

Hidden rocks and detritus of their

 

Respective environments

 

Diverting their linear growth

 

For the sake of survival

 

One must be convoluted to grow up

 

Like newly-hatched sea turtles

 

We walk towards the light of the moon

 

Reflecting over the ocean’s surface

 

Trying to find our way towards the

 

Life-sustaining water

 

Those who walk straight,

 

Looking up at the light and

 

Oblivious to the 

 

Man-made dangers ahead

 

Walk into the street

 

And end up dead

 

For the human world was

 

Not designed with turtles in mind

 

Likewise,

 

Our cut-throat world

 

Hostile to healers of the

 

Dreaming kind

 

Those who dig down

 

Those who claw at the sand

 

Might just find water

 

An oasis just below the

 

Arid land

 

For sand is an 

 

Amalgamation of cells

 

An ancient beach of rocks

 

Worn down over time by the

 

Crashing waves

 

Forming the curves of the

 

Body of the shoreline

 

Crashing waves

 

Propelled by 

 

Forces beyond the grasp of the

 

Human hand

 

One cannot capture wind 

 

And sand slips through the fingers

 

We must grasp at the roots

 

And marvel at the branches