There is drama in the soil.
In the garden
tendrils of roots
climbing from tiny seeds
pushing and shoving aside
hard pressed granules of earth
packed by centuries of weight and water
seeking that last drop of moisture
left from last month’s spring shower.
Insects, worms, bacteria, fungi and more,
all vying for the next morsel,
the enzymes of decay
devouring the fallen leaves
in the creation of food for food.
The violent expansions and contractions
that results from changes in temperature
in the passage of days and nights,
summers and winters,
the karmic shifting of tectonic plates,
played out on sunny afternoons beneath our feet,
blurred by our lofty and distant visions,
compressed by our minds into single words,
scrubbed away in the shower,
caught in the push and pull
of life in motion,
in the endless chain
of beginnings, climaxes and endings,
running down the drain.
spinning in space,
just as we are.