The Promised Land


It never was a promised land

Seemingly inescapable

Our toes lingered and crept out

Dug themselves into the ground

Unrelenting and firm

Like the oaks burry their history

Deep beneath the soil


To some, an unrooting


Mystical and forbidden

To others

The most necessary for their survival

Their lives - meant for this work of digging

Their feet - meant for this act of moving


So like them, I dug deep

I sifted through the dirt and pulled

Pulled pulled pulled

My long and thick roots until

The force of my releasing ties

Topling me backwards

Free but not without effects


Trudging and aching along

Carrying what I felt that

I could carry

I discovered

My own dead weight

Only receding should I choose

To honor it