Mind if I deviate from my usual methods by sharing a poem that I wrote?
Tendrils in roots and flexible wood
Weave forward with ferocity, timidity, strength.
Spring from an oft-slumbering, muddy
Mass of robbery and aspiration,
Whose hollow eyes, yet open, remain closed and
Glaze with fault, not seeing what they observe, or want to,
Driving writhing shoots into stubborn rocks and clumps, which
Hamper paths ahead, and streak
Journey-goers with fear, pain, regret.
Snaking worms struggle to form finite coherency and
Break the shell by dragging away the dirty crust.
Wriggle lengths farther than thought had once carried them,
Look back for the future, grasping and learning in
Slow increments of time.
Push through resilient soul and drudge, hoping to plant a
Seed and spring to life for their maker,
Erupting into leafy, sun-light sprinkled branches and
Spiny carvings for many to touch, break, admire,
Strive to bring worth to that which sent them forth, or
Illuminate the little buried somewhere hidden.
In a bright and ominous moment of agony and success, they may.
Tendrils weave forward in time.
Does this poem have any spiritual significance to you? If so, what?
I’ll be honest—I’m not sure I thought of God very much when I wrote this. However, that certainly doesn’t mean you can’t have gotten something out of it.
Do any fictional characters come to mind? If so, who and why?
I thought of Ron Weasley from the Harry Potter book series. Why? Well, being the youngest of six boys and the best friend of world-famous Harry, Ron must have felt a bit of what this poem expresses. In fact, I think proof of this is found in a few of the books, such as the fourth and the sixth.
What do you think?