in my own land

03.06.2023, Enschede, The Netherlands | poetry to embolden the soul to illuminate its depths with unabashed luminosity

I tried.
I tried to root.
I saw myself after a while,
I connected.
Like an air plant.
Yet, didn’t I need my own land?

I cut my roots, then
hanged them in water
to rest, it hurt.
I followed the sun
with my patience.
I changed the water every day.
I kept a little puddle to remember yesterday.
To get ready for the land
belonging to me, I belong.
It was awkward,
tentative, and even embarrassing.
As Julia always says.

Now, I feel the water
coming with freshness
Hear the fungus talking to my roots.
To proceed with my breath.