Ode to Dirt

Under the snow of Antartica,
beneath the ocean floor.
You have transformed-
rising up to our presense,
hiding blow ashes.
Your solid brown color
enrishes
small,
yet
big
lives.
You give us a sense
of ground.
A reassurance
that we are
still
here.
You lay there.
Watching us
grow,
watching them grow.
Your sad ancient wrinkles
frown upon us for what we had
done to your dear
friend,
Sky,
Your pores would burst
with the push of Earth,
enslaved forever
reacting to its whips.
As we expire
you shall be there
to
welcome
us.