Root system of a 6-year-old asparagus plant. Not all of the very numerous main roots are shown. (10 ft deep)Puzzle pieces in the ground
No one ever seems to be digging.
Instead they’re looking up towards the heavens, with their eyes on the heavens,
their shadows on the way to the heavens.
It’s enough to make me cry,
but that don’t seem like it will make it feel better.
The answers could be found,
we could learn from digging down,
but no one ever seems to be digging
I feel like there are only a select few of us that have spades in hand
We know more about the surface of the moon than we do about the soil beneath our feet
Our ancestors,
before the artists in the caves,
before the caecilians burrowed their thick skulls into the loam
the ones that have tender hairs on their undersides, responsible for their nutrient uptake
Their first thought was to dig deep, they knew there was a lot to learn from going down.
Humans, and I myself, have been caught by the allure of going up, up, up. That the prize was near the top, the enlightenment of reaching our crown chakra or the pride of building the tower of Babel…. at what expense? Forgetting the importance of our roots and everything we’re soaking up through them.
I feel the urge to sink down deep into this loam, down to the warmth that keeps the earth alive. Maybe I’ll find the secrets of the universe or maybe just find a little more of myself, but down is where I’m headed after college.
