第63章 The Reaching

The root reached for the sky. Not through the roof. Not through the opening in the tar paper and shingles. The root reached beyond the house, beyond the yard, beyond the property line, beyond the woods, reaching upward through the earth, through the stone, through the water table, through the layers of sediment and rock and compressed time, and the reaching was the deep's way of touching the sky, and the sky was the deep's home, and the home was the keeping, and the keeping was the door, and the door was open. The reach was visible. Eli could see it from the window of the east wing, where the trees stood in the hallway and the mold covered the walls and the root's branches spread through the ceiling. He could see the earth rising, the ground lifting, the surface of the land changing, the contours of the property shifting as the deep moved beneath it, pushing upward, reaching, becoming the surface, becoming the sky's counterpart, becoming the ground that touches the air, the earth that meets the light. The reach was not destructive. The reach was creative. The deep was not destroying the surface. The deep was making the surface new. The ground was rising, and the rising was the deep's way of becoming what it had always been, the foundation, the support, the ground on which the world stood, and the world was the deep's home, and the home was the keeping, and the keeping was the door, and the door was open. Nora stood beside Eli and watched the reach. The ground was rising, the earth lifting, the surface changing, and the changing was the deep's way of saying: I am here. I am the ground. I am reaching for the sky. I am the deep, and the deep is the foundation, and the foundation is the world, and the world is the deep's home, and the home is the keeping, and the keeping is the door, and the door is open. "It's reaching," Nora said. "The deep is reaching for the sky. The ground is rising. The surface is changing. The deep is becoming what it has always been." "The ground has always been the deep." "The ground has always been the deep's body. The deep has always been the ground's soul. And the soul is reaching, and the body is following, and the reaching is the deep's way of touching the sky, and the sky is the deep's home, and the home is the keeping, and the keeping is the door, and the door is open." The deep reached. The ground rose. The surface changed. And the changing was the deep's breath, and the breath was the deep's life, and the life was the deep, and the deep was here. The reach went beyond the property. The root's branches extended past the fence line, past the boundary, past the edge of the woods, and the reach was the deep's way of expanding, the deep's way of becoming larger, the deep's way of saying: I am not just the ground beneath this house. I am the ground beneath everything. I am the deep, and the deep is the foundation, and the foundation is the earth, and the earth is the world, and the world is my home, and the home is the keeping, and the keeping is the door, and the door is open. The reach was visible from the window. Eli could see the ground rising, the earth lifting, the surface changing. The lawn, which had been flat and brown and dead, was no longer flat. It was undulating, rising and falling in gentle swells, the way the surface of a lake rises and falls with the tide, and the tide was the deep's breath, and the breath was the deep's life, and the life was the deep, and the deep was here. The reach went into the woods. The trees at the property line were moving, their roots pulling free of the earth and finding new purchase, their trunks leaning toward the house, their branches pressing against the windows and the walls. They were drawn to the root, drawn to the center, drawn to the deep, and the drawing was the deep's pull, the deep's gravity, the deep's slow, steady, irresistible attraction that pulled everything toward itself. Nora stood beside Eli and watched the reach. The ground was rising, the earth lifting, the surface changing, and the changing was the deep's way of saying: I am here. I am the ground. I am reaching for the sky. I am the deep, and the deep is the foundation, and the foundation is the world, and the world is my home, and the home is the keeping, and the keeping is the door, and the door is open. "It's reaching," she said. "The deep is reaching for the sky. The ground is rising. The surface is changing." "The ground has always been the deep." "The ground has always been the deep's body. The deep has always been the ground's soul. And the soul is reaching, and the body is following, and the reaching is the deep's way of touching the sky, and the sky is the deep's home, and the home is the keeping, and the keeping is the door, and the door is open." The deep reached. The ground rose. The surface changed. And the changing was the deep's breath, and the breath was the deep's life, and the life was the deep, and the deep was here. The reach extended into the ground itself. The root's branches spread through the earth the way veins spread through a body, carrying the deep's substance, the deep's warmth, the deep's pulse, and the pulse was the deep's heartbeat, and the heartbeat was the deep's way of being alive, and the alive was the deep, and the deep was here. The reach was felt in the ground. The ground was warm where the root touched it, warm the way the chamber was warm, warm the way the house was warm, and the warmth was the deep's warmth, and the warmth was the deep's way of saying: I am here, and I am in the ground, and the ground is me, and I am reaching, and the reaching is my work, and the work is the keeping, and the keeping is the door, and the door is open. The reach went into the sky. The root's trunk rose through the roof, its branches spreading above the house, and the branches were the deep's way of touching the sky, the deep's way of being present in the light, the deep's way of becoming what it had always been, the ground that touches the sky every morning. The sky received the reach. The branches touched the clouds, and the clouds moved, and the moving was the deep's way of touching the weather, the deep's way of being present in the rain, in the wind, in the snow, and the being was the deep, and the deep was here. ---