Dig down deep where the squirmy worms go.
Feel the decay of ancient sunlight within forgotten leaves.
Smell the dark, rich soil aching with fertility.
Plunge the seed within and wait.

It will grow.

I see it in the asphalt bumps and sidewalk cracks.
Earth, she don't want to be flat.

Smooth her out with concrete blocks
She'll move and turn without a thought.

Spent most of her life clothed with tempestuous life.
This recent pavement trend leads to unwanted strife.

We build our cornered, straightened, flat, leveled space
upon a vibrant, living, rounded, moving place.

No, Earth, she don't want to be flat.

Full bodied, free flowing, seductress, she
scoffs at such mind conceited, power hungry, insincerity;

exposing our cracks in her restless slumber.