gray0328

the art of digging

 

every hand holds creation within  

yet who lifts the heavy load  

who shapes the earth we walk  

sculptors of ground unseen by us  

 

while brushes paint skies above  

below calloused palms shape clay  

the dirt roads beneath our feet  

are galleries unsung by the world  

 

is the sweat not a masterpiece  

is the strain not its own verse  

to build is a symphony of grit  

but who stops to hear the music  

 

everyone paints dreams in their own way  

yet we forget the ones who labor  

their art lies in every foundation  

the quiet architects of this earth