Pull of the Earth

The storm lingered long, and I stand in the yard,

the ground feels like lead, it’s heavy and hard.

The weight of the water pulls down on my feet,

with each step I take, I feel pinned to the street.

Soil shifts like a promise, a tether to land,

a reminder of roots, but it’s hard to withstand.

With every soft droplet, I sink and I sway,

as gravity whispers, “Just give in, stay.”

Yet in this stillness, I feel something bloom,

like strength found in softness, the lifting of gloom.

And though I am burdened, I rise with the tide,

for even the heaviest weight can’t divide.