The Roots

What are these parts of me ?
The dream that forms this life,
The life that searches up the Dream.
The bird that flies,
The tree that soars -
The one,
So seemingly rooted -
But rooted are we all.
The roots are there.
Deeper than the Dream,
Soaring into depths beyond the ground
Sinking into sky imagining.
And floating,
The bird alights upon the tree
Complete as one in mystery.

Vincent J. Filomena

The author retains all rights to his work and requests that poems quoted include the name of the author.

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