~ a poem about growth

We are all buried.
From the Beginning,
inside this ground.
Encased within caskets,
Specially built by hands unseen,
And built well.

Housed are the bodies
But with the minds free,
Escape is possible.
The soul can fly high
Above this station, the dirt

As long as life infuses the will
Digging and digging and digging
The surface is promised

For what?
How does one know,
What lies above?

Well, beyond these searching fingers
Are eternal futures.
Looking back,
there’s only one past.
Driving forces divine or reasoned
It is for your consideration within.

Believing destiny is up
The buried strive for it.
And find something.
Dreaming their dreams of reality
This end is True.

in this beginning bloom:
We are all flowers
striving ardently for a light.