Her nails dug at hardened ground
Searching for the softest plot
With the desire to be buried
And recreate from where she was born

The natural process of birth growth and death
Is lost in the ire of production
The human hand has learned to
Shape and process for demand

Outward protest and expression from within
Is as disturbing as a violent wind
The sadness in her heartbeat
Can shake ground below calloused feet