hold their own

when you cut through me
beyond these veneers
you touch and sand
with your bare hands,
you will find
those long grains
of timber grown
in the wild,
that speak of
distances
and depths
of earth and sky,
captured
in tangled roots
with only one purpose -
to hold their own
in the fragility
of their unstoppable tips,
leading themselves
in the blind,
into the mystery
beyond you and me.