Somewhere below the surface, where sunlight never filters,

and the forces are large, ancient and mostly subtle, it takes

a million years to make a change -


Somewhere beyond the range of sight and hearing, a current flows

like time outside of time and space outside of space,

a motion with a mute determination and grace -


Somewhere remote from expectations of nations and railroad stations

that things have order and are predictable, there is the stone core

of what remains stable, yet unstable -


We move like mice and motes, whole civilizations rise and perish

as continents push up against each other’s edges, creating Himalayas.

And even that takes a thousand ages -


We strive like a hive of bees to compete and complete and be replete

with things like wealth and honor and ownership, and what a trip

to think that beneath all of the conniving there is something grand -


and more profound that will outlast every clever blast our arrogance

may sound and remain untouched by the miniscule rule of men - 


A subterranean Zen -