Poem -

Grounded

There's one thing that even Atheists believe in
 
It's something we trample
 
We defile
 
We cover
 
Something we...
 
spit on
 
piss on
 
shit on
 
We dig it
 
and move it
 
and set tracks in it
 
feet and shoes
 
tyres and rollers
 
We rarely expect it to shake
 
Always surprised to feel it quake
 
Expect it to stay still
 
Until the time we alot to drill 
 
And from it we get
 
bricks... and...
 
cement from sand
 
Mine it for gold and oil
 
Consume the produce
 
of the soil
 
It's the source of our gems
 
that tie all our covenants
 
And if we're feeling lost
 
that's when we stare at it
 
We scan it for a meaning that's behind or below
 
We view its invisibility to ease
 
the turmoil in our anxious minds
 
And into it we hope to hide
 
when our shame is more than bearable
 
It is the ground
 
It's always shareable
 
It is a gift from God
 
esteemed a goddess
 
We seldom think about
 
the way we polute it
 
and uproot it
 
This plane-yet-sphere
 
defies all our abuse
 
It aches our soles
 
Yet nurtures our
 
souls
 
But in the end
 
it gets its dues
 
and swallows us whole
 

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