This is another poem from when I first started blogging two weeks ago. I didn’t tag it and so you likely did not read it. I have since evolved to tag my posts now. Hope this poem makes you think! Enjoy!
Face-down in the dirt,
I taste the timeless worth,
inhaling ingredients born of moments
both mineral and vegetable speak volumes.
A hidden history, unabridged composition, scribed silently
under the topsoil of yesterday’s cement, beneath bedrock of century’s past,
down, down, down deeper than you will ever know, before the ground collected souls.
Devoid of bone, blood, decay and dust, the universe does not remember us.
We are minuscule, we have no weight, unrealized creation in a single-celled speck –
though we evolve, the story is bound by a common thread.
The ancient eavesdropper 
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