Rooted

there is a moment in the middle of the night
when you realize all of which you love at once and
the pain of it all leaves you so weary awake
with irrational fear funneling inward tornado-like you wish
to hold your head in your hands and weep
uncontrollably to let go of some of the burden of responsibility
laid in your lap

happiness is a conviction spun
from fear to relieve the weight of pounds pounding
their relentless needs of maintenance with tendencies to
evoke the emotional ocean ebbing and pulling
rip tide currents

it is evasion of true loneliness we cling to such things
under this Sun of summer or
other cold seasons waiting to grab our thoughts
and breaths from our lungs filled with intreppidation

yet you must persist to carry water to those who
thirst for your bucket in the arid days depressed
with desires and needs clinging from your shoulders from
the ones who lean on you and call you home to
sit and wait for the middle of the night