Ask the ground how the light feels
when dusk dips down beneath its horizon.
How it feels to soak in the warmth of a melting sun
while blushing against the remnant hours of day.
Ask how it feels to companion such immensity of space, ever turning,
while given the chance to hold in its stillness.
Ask the ground to name its depth.
And interpret its core.
Its answers would mirror that of my own love.
Its answers would be mine.