The Root

Visuals, Thoughts, Music and Poetry


The rope of your love wraps around twofold,
Tie it tight,
We can float on this wave,

Your lighthouse eyes guide me here,
I don’t need a compass,
I’m brave in the darkness.

The perfect storm looming,
Is the one deep in our hearts,
Stirring up this sea of emotion.

Twist, turn and tug,
Is the cargo too heavy?
Well, I don’t need it anymore

I clutch your anchor strong wrist,
With faith and destination,
If I have to, I will swim.

Navigate pure days,
Enjoy this blue and violet,
It won’t ever wash away.

My View.

When this hit my inbox one Friday, I spent the entire morning marvelling at how magically beautiful the world is. The fact that nature can blow away the competition of any man-made imagination is mind-blowing.

I thought to myself “One day, I’ll go there, I’ll save up and I’ll stay at that hotel, even if it’s for ONE night, I’ll do it for the view.”

And then I took a step back.

Why is there a requirement to part with so much money for something that is free? I’d only really be paying for the view, not the bed, window or the shower. Why does man destroy nature to sit next to nature? Why are we putting a price on something so priceless? Why are the poor excluded? And why do we have no choice in the matter?

If money wasn’t an issue, we’d all be experiencing a richer life, a richer WORLD, that doesn’t alienate us because we don’t have enough coins in our pockets. 

See the hotels here:

Those eyes with that water,
The salt of a bittersweet love,
Don’t look any further,
I’m here,
Run for cover,
Under this marquee called my arms
And this cushion called my shoulder,
You’ll see one day it’ll all be crystal
Gleaming like a rare beauty
Your love was always within you
Run to the centre.

The sun was shining but not in the room. The walls sitting where they always were,
Except now their squeeze was pushing me upwards,
Light years and comets,
Speed was not a measure it was a force,
A brute one that just kept swinging,
And gnawing,
And relaxing,
And covering,
With a sheet so frozen it froze the inside,
Feathery light and metallic crunch,
Let go.

One of my favourite quotes from a novel:

“I really like you, Midori. A lot.”
“How much is a lot?”
“Like a spring bear,” I said.
“A spring bear?” Midori looked up again. “What’s that all about? A spring bear.”
“You’re walking through a field all by yourself one day in spring, and this sweet little bear cub with velvet fur and shiny little eyes comes walking along. And he says to you, “Hi, there, little lady. Want to tumble with me?’ So you and the bear cub spend the whole day in each other’s arms, tumbling down this clover-covered hill. Nice, huh?”
“Yeah. Really nice.”
“That’s how much I like you.”

- Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood