Underearth: while rootsy rhizomes entangle
from seed-casings busted and decaying,
change emerges on sunless, twisted angles
that coil in knots of fibrous chafing.
Above such interminable depths those
origins always flex, to once again imbue
a sea of stalks that shivers as it grows
with blades that bow to mottled, mulchy dew.
These are the facts that matter for rot,
vitality once again sustaining old
dreams of compost weaving life from not,
in heaps of vibrant, active, soggy mold.
The new is the same, re-sheathed and shining
like skin stretched taught over a mild burn
and all writhing, teeming life still pining
beckons: world, work your incandescent turn.