Today is the quarrying of granite,
Hard rock which cannot be pounded away;
Today the mining for diamond,
Rare, light-throwing, pressure-immune.
What caught time has sunk deep and fused so?
Should we forsake dead mineral,
Dig instead for what lives?
The same earth yields root-language,
Chants and guttural song amid
Blind, white, creeping under-thoughts.
Slime and rot matches warmth of loam.
We are nourished by decay.
I'm not sure what to think of this one, dear.
Posted by: Pollux at April 13, 2003 11:53 AM