Seeds of Change

Sunlight stirs green thoughts,

coming alive instead of still props.

Pushing from the bottom.

I cannot pull from the top.

Dirt is pounded endlessly

till it's solid as rock.

There are high mighty,

have always been.

They’ll be struck low

as always will.

When the people break,

the country remakes,

and the soil is tilled.

So we can take our fill.