In the Cracks and Crevices
In the cracks and crevices,
That's where true nature hides.
In darkened corners folded twice,
And covered up, besides.
Cleanliness, we've all been told,
Is Godly in its way,
So unclean places tend to be,
Filled up with nature's clay.
The broken molds of broken things,
Left still to mold away,
'Til nothing's left of what it was,
Or anyone to say.
The cracks and crevices are there,
For crumbs of life to play,
And in their sodden misery,
To quietly decay.
Until the spiderwebs and dust,
Have corners of their own,
To now fill up with useless things,
Like seeds the wind has blown.
And in that quiet corner,
With Nature's silent shout,
Some germinations have occurred,
And flowers blossomed out!
NicknamedBob . . . . . June 6, 2012
Exactly.