How I Stand

I used to know how to stand,

The place my feet belonged

To give me sufficient anchor,

A fixed point to see where I am going.

I have almost found my way back,

Having been reminded I used to know where it is

I once cast a vision

In a circle of men

For a way to be rooted

To solid ground.

I have remembered it is important not where,

But how I stand,

With my face up toward the light,

Rooted like a tree

That bends in the storm,

But does not break.