Like tiny wild flowers

bent over, running near the ground

then turning

to shoot upwards

from from it’s roots,

in order to get that

life-giving sunshine …

 

… we, as the elders of society

– called, cutely enough "Senior Citizens" now –

begin to reach for Mother Earth.

 

We know, at a cellular level

from whence our nourishment comes.

 

Our whole body and demeanor

reaches for the ground.

 

We are going home.

 

Heaven is beneath our feet.

 

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