Deep Roots

Posted on fb: Friday, December 4, 2009 at 1:27am

I’m crazy for deep roots. The kind that tickle deeply hidden stillwaters, that at a squinted glance correctly infer more than what I know I don’t know, with that irresistible eye-twinkle of mystery that reminds me of the moon on slow-moving rivers at midnight. A slight, pleasant smirk of time-worn wisdom inevitably lingers around the face and peeks out of the most curious little nooks, only to disappear again as if, for some happy moment, you just imagined it.

These are the reincarnated ones.

Their silence is a music of remembrance; their walk, the calm cadence of a moss-covered sundial. Every word they use they have said before, and they could tell you a story about each syllable. A sad story and a happy story, too, if you like.

I want them all to tell me that I’m special… that they’ve seen me someplace before – 1945, in fact – and didn’t I go on and do some really swell things and help a great many people?

And, were that to happen, of course I’d have my reply rehearsed and ready: “No, no that wasn’t me, but I’m proud you think so. Would you mind telling me what they did and how they did it?” I’m still waiting for my chance… but I'm more than alright with just a quick story. A happy one, please.

They all buy cards. Piles and piles of cards. Stacks, mounds, wheelbarrows full of cards. Cradles full of cards. Hospitals full of cards. Hearses full of cards.

They know that all we got is connection.

And there I stand, watching them, a snot-nosed twenty-four-year-old child, staring a fresh life smack between the eyes… looking like a deer disoriented by the moon’s reflection on a slow-moving river at midnight… reaching for the stillwaters…

And trying real hard to grow my roots deep.