The dirt yawned And swallowed the weather While we sat patiently Waiting for dawn. The clouds were a landslide That dragged us both down Like synthetic feathers In a hurricane. We did not find OZ, There was no other dimension, Just cold, abusive soil, And four billion years Of built up tension That unleashed upon us A prehistoric frustration With the lack of chaos, And the predetermination That replaced it. We clutched at roots, And ripped off our fingernails Scratching at sandstone, We lost our skin, And inhaled the souls Of a trillion decomposed organisms. Our bodies split Like light through A million prisms, But our spirits Kept up their plummets. Into a chasm we fell, Like grains of sand into An expanding universe, So inconceivably small, So irreversibly without control, So peacefully. Our energies squirmed In imperfect circles Around each other As the fall Turned stationary By perspective. Other pairs joined us, Attracted to our spin, Until we formed A new world, To god's chagrin.