Rooted

I am a product of the events that have shaped my life
molding me into a fragile figurine constantly tested
with the light blows from a hammer striking my psyche
trying to find cracks in a profound imperfect creation
letting out anger in short bursts unwisely and unfairly
as a diamond grip tried to contain a bubbling explosion

but,

I am thankful for the moments
that rattle around upstairs trying to trickle
their way downstairs in the depths of emotions
hiding under the shade of the mighty redwood
in its everlasting majestic nature rooted to the earth
never wavering its commitment to the forest

and,

I wish I could tell you how refreshing it is
to smell crisp air again in the seconds between
the breach of gold across the horizon always painting
a perfect portrait of bliss beauty and amber hopes
onto a tattered canvas of a phantom's education
firing off into the distance waiting for us to catch up

and,

I now know where the dirt strewn road leads
as I walk into the depths of a scenery I never knew
was possible, and only seen in the wisdom of elders
who walked this world trying to remind us of reflection,
radiance, and repentance in the heat of the devil
as he battles the better angels of human nature