How much of our earth is covered in cement? How can it breathe that way? Living creatures need air and water and sunlight to survive. Is the earth itself not alive?
We cover our earth in cement; we take away the liveliness of the ground, the ability to grow and change and adapt like all living creatures must. Instead, we drown the earth in this unnatural paster, suffocating the life out of what could be, what was, what is no longer. The ground we stand on is fake, false.
So now how far down must we reach, under all that cement, until we encounter our origins once more? And what is it within us, a fear, shame?, that allows us to so cover – and hide from – that from which we come?