… how do the roots know
they must climb toward the light?
And then greet the air
with so many flowers and colors?
Tell me, is the rose naked
or is that her only dress?
Why do trees conceal
the splendor of their roots?
But do you know from where
death comes, from above or from below?
From microbes or walls,
from wars or winter?
Where is the child I was,
still inside me or gone?
~Pablo Neruda from “The Book of Questions”
Here I am, on the eve of my 66th birthday, with more questions than answers, the child still inside me puzzling over the mundane and profound.
The “why’s” of life are the reason to keep getting up every day, if only to greet the air, feel the sun, smell the flowers and recognize that from hidden roots come beautiful growth.
I’m still growing by asking the questions that need to be asked.
I’m still growing while my roots reach deeper by the day.
I’m still growing because I know I need to reach out to the Light.