I cannot imagine, but I feel it all the same.
My feet sink into the earth, through layers of time and space.
Uprooting holes in history, which were trampled and forgotten.
With running water and dripping sweat, leaving soil on my toes, and tools in my hands.
I transgress, we transgress… 

With empty pockets and a room full of sand, I feel, I imagine and I am present.
I am because we are, and I exist only because we exist.
​Differing in habits, but together in strength, our roots grow deeper, in patterns, and in depth.
I transgress, we transgress…

Finally, digesting the land, and then the air,
Which has been lashed around my body, through generational despair.
Melting into a state of being, which has been torn from the inside, fraying at the edges,

and maybe, just maybe, can begin to thaw.
You could never imagine, but I feel it all the same.
I transgress, we transgress…

A present past, never able to be forgotten, guides a future, holding pain, loss,

and the potential for new beginnings.
Where man once scorched the earth, leaving the sun to indulge in pain, new life flows,

and we can breath.
Water, soil, trees and acorns.
I transgress, we transgress…