I could observe my foundation, what maintained my whole being, the evidence of the passing of the years, what gave me strength to continue growing freely.

At my sides I could discern the ramifications of my decisions with their consequences: there were stronger ones, as well as more delicate ones, some were just a slight breeze away from falling into oblivion, from them emerged those learnings that showed me how to live, my green hope, my leaves.

Yet, with confusion, I looked down and could not distinguish my roots, my beginnings, the reason for my being; what good was the rest if I could not even contemplate the reason for my existence, the certainty that I was a living being and not all was the result of my imagination? What was my place in this world?

What rooted me to this world?