1/19/11

A small crack in the asphalt, calmly coaxed,

By simple, cyclic, stresses which divide.

Through gentle pressures, frost and thaw revoke,

Industrial endeavors of mankind.

We stare upon our crumbling works with rage,

Rebuild and reinforce them with repair.

Alas, aloof, unblinking, scourge of age,

Your arsenal, eternal, seems unfair!

We cry injustice thus, with vengeful thirst,

The elements are sworn as enemy.

Yet, our ambitious digging drew blood first,

The earth strives, but to heal it's injury.

When fissures of our flesh reform and fade,

Does nature's hand not win our highest praise?