i’m found buried
down deep, sometimes;
pressed tight underneath.
it’s dark and i’m dirty.
around and against me,
things lurk and things creep.

how could any life be found
in so much smothering?
the pressure from above
bearing down on me.

i flail about
in desperate attempts for
light, air, water.
all these things will make me
clean again,
breathe again,
see again.

i could die here,
or reach out with desperate arms,
let something else give me what i need.

only to realize i can still breathe,
you’ve left just enough space,
the water source flows not far underneath.
when i reach for it, i’m steadied
and can take one inch closer to the sun
in hope, like You, just a seed in dark soil,
i’ll sprout once again as something new.

one tree in a forest
of glory and green
who all found themselves
buried, sometimes,
pressed down deep.