Mossy Tarmac

Asphalt is a grey stain

vital for movement,

yet a blemish on the soul

natures beauty, now flat and grey.

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Lain great swathes

the veins of our society,

connecting us all

lungs of tar.

-

Laid and forgotten

time dulling their grey,

dour and drab

wishing to be walked upon.

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Yet where some see sadness

I see the beauty of nature,

in hand with their eternal ally

Old Man Time.

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Where the asphalt is forgotten

no feet treading down,

emerald streams

bubble from below.

-

A mossy carpet

starting to form,

encompassing the cracks

spiritual Kintsugi

-

Rivers of moss

flooding the network of the forgotten,

byways

and highways.

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A spiritual formation

natures tenacity,

filling our lungs with fresh air

mossy tarmac.