Through the Worm Hole
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cool dampness beckons these chubby aeration specialists
Tonight, in dark crescendo, rise the worms
to sniff the dampened crust of fresh thawed earth
bathe under flickering, cloud spaced, moon
aerate the very ground that bids them birth
Mock the darkened sight of “early birds”
wriggle at the touch of spring’s chill breeze
knowing that in half – they still are whole
and these…these single moments…they must seize.
Or be denied the nuances of life
at levels deemed beneath the worth of man
raising eyeless heads they search blind skies
for vision needs not sight in nature’s plan.
Come touch the moistened earth - bask in its scent
embrace, with darkened eyes, nature’s assent.
John G. Lawless
©9/2/2018
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2018
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