Pervading the dark and gloomy loam, creeping tendrils seek contact with the unknown, but not unknowable. They grope about and sculpt the soil, forming passageways between the trees fermenting slowly, freeing nitrogen and phosphorous from inorganic chains to their alien neighbors, offering exchange of substance for sustenance warmth, and nourishment lacing their roots, soothing their moods; harsh circumstances circumvented for the sapling supplicants supported by severe, distant, but not unkind, unyielding kin. The sly, sacred vows of mycelial brethren their unseen sins
The Fungus Knows
I also really like the artwork you use. It works so well with the images in the poems.
This is exquisite ❤️😭💕!