“Deep Roots” by Dale Innis
Deep Roots
In the hazy bogs of my floating sleeping mind
life survives; in the mist even at night
it somehow always survives,
in some form or other it goes on.
Some life is unknown and unseen
too small for our peering eyes
to peek in on and actually perceive
But I imagine how it might be
In the law of this microscopic land,
the sheriff rounds up the most obvious
bad inclinations and they are forever banned.
Supple, goodness is free to flick in watered bliss
it’s like living in floating jello, but colorless
The only color they have ever seen is green
wisps and little legs wrap on to the big green trees
that grow so high,
they’re out of sight,
but for the tiny world below they are
centerpieces, giant landmarks
that mark off whole galaxies
of diminutive cities teeming with life
All can hug them cling and mold to them and be safe
The tiny tiny-life-forms love to discuss
incessantly if they have any end at all
some put forth an idea called infinity
but some are sure they are just finitely tall.
Quite by accident, a teeny complex-cell thing
was scooped up by a fish
who swam to the surface to feed on
Mayflies, who were singing and dying
on top of the water, on their last hurrah
all day and all night.
The minute, minuscule unwilling little thing
was thrown out into the lake,
almost losing its head on
monstrously large, the size of an island,
desperately beating pale pieces of wing.
It looked around, like an astronaut
in discovery of something immense and new;
what it saw was so unfamiliar, so beyond
its shores of limited life lessons
it fainted at the sight of these gargantuan
glowing pods, that lit up the world
in a never before seen, eye wrenching color.
Red.
It was the last thing on its lips,
before falling weighted by lifeless insects
back to the shallow bottom of its universe
it’s ordered, familiar home with green trees
anchored to the murky sands 30 meters below.
Its first thought was, while coming to,
“If I say what I saw, the sheriff
might run me off for being
dangerously delusional.”
and it bit its tongue
never saying a word about those
beacons of red, that flung
their bulging walls wide open…
and there was light.
He hypothesized, when they
drew in onto themselves,
that must be the night.
He never told a single-celled soul
that those trees were just holding
a hundred suns in place, so there could be light
and that was the reason why,
all the itty bitty things, like him
survived in the misty sludge,
at the bottom of their
very polluted lake…even at night.
Karima Hoisan
October 21, 2022
Costa Rica
*Footnote..I think I must have eaten something
very silly for dinner….and behold the consequences:)
Digital Rabbit Hole 
Ha, how wonderful! I love the idea of the tiny world deep under the surface, where tiny creatures endlessly discuss their place, with no idea what wild things are above. Rather like us!
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Oh for sure, very much like us..I loved this image you created the first moment I saw it, I added it to the Eclectic Gallery but I never in a hundred years thought this was the poem, I was going to write about it:):) I love that Life still holds surprises:) Thanks so much Dale, first for another find AI Art piece and 2nd for this great comment:)
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Oooh, I love this whole concept, with its unique community and way of keeping things in order.
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Thanks so much Joyce, they seems a bit rigid on innovation, but they probably have some great attitudes we are not yet aware of:) Loved your comment.
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Thank you so much!
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Because dreaming costs nothing, we turned to inspiration to create our own tiny world as opposed to the confusing and unflattering world we live in now. Great composition.
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Thank you so much, Manuel,…as you say, this was a flight of fancy that took off all on its own..I am so glad you enjoyed reading it.
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You are welcome.
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Ha, I love how you mesh up natural science, psychology and fantasy in this piece! Another great image, Dale. The black hole in the prominent flower is a bit disconcerting though…
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Aww thanks Joey…yes this petty untamed poem, was inspired by this haunting image in a hazy bog of who knows where? I agree, the black hole could be problematic, for all, in the future:):) Hugs!!
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oh thank goodness i got my necessary dose of silly today! i can hardly get enough of that stuff!😊i love this poem! i have had similar fantasies, however about the little organic denizens of this body-world, how they rejoice at the fulfillment of their duties in fractal similarity to our rejoicing at the writing of a poem. it’s all good for the body & good for the world to be blessed with creative play❤️🙏🏼❤️🤗🎈🤗thanks again for a lovely journey💕💕🚀
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Thank you so much J,:) Yes silly can be very freeing for the imagination and good for the whole. As you say in your last poem about the stones, you had no idea where it was taking you…yours was a more contemplative rumination, where as mine was just a total leap into giving my muse free-rein into madness.. opening the gate and letting her gallop off where she chose. I’m sure she needs that too now and then 😉
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🙏🏼🤗🙏🏼
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I love the idea and fantasy in this beautifully crafted piece. Your imagery is at the best, and goes well with the picture. Good one, Karima! 😊💐💖
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Thank you so much Kaushal.. your validation in this great comment makes me braver to try new things.. Your comment totally motivated me!🌹⚛️🦋
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My pleasure, Karima! All the best for your all endeavours 👍💐🌹🥀
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Please state EXACTLY what you had for dinner and include the recipes! Apparently, such a meal results in excellent wordsmithing! 🙂
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Haha and here I was afraid the Sheriff was about to haul me out of town:):)
*whispers I will tell you Linda,but privately.. Only eat when your cell is well-padded:):) Loved your comment…Thank you for reading and enjoying it:):)
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For me, this write speaks of the always present connection between the micro and macro worlds, and of the mirroring between the two. Lovely, and fun, Karima. 🤗❤️
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Thank you so much Jeff, for stopping by and so glad you enjoyed my flight of fancy, yes.. between the micro and the macro:) Glad you had fun reading it..I was hoping people would:) Have a great day!!
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