under earth

call the Root of my root to press in through the mud the watery molecules of grace and earth

i have been growing shallow roots
vine infested, nectar infused
paltry in pallet, paper thin,
winding the line of grace-filled innocence
hinding in the soil’s dark
soaking up negligence, an excuser’s art,
lapping the waters polluted by waste
living in distracted days,
lounging in the warm of dirt
i’ve forgotten my purpose in this earth,
dare i think of my stalks above
shriveled and browned by the heat of the sun
and the fruit and bud that never came
for i decided to feast on the run off of grace
rather then dig in deeper soil
and find my way through rock and gravel
to the springs of water deep underground
that old voice have been telling about
legends of forgotten days
the fermented fragrance of ancient ways
with the effervescence below and futility above
the Root calls to my root "press in through the mud"
the watery molecules of grace and earth
the reality of what is me and you
to the aching beauty below
the sweetwater wisdom
the song of the soul.