The Slow Dance of Progress
It sways and reaches out like branches of a tree.
Ablaze with growth with flames that lap up all they see.
It's fervor kindles and molds forth like a lover's yearning embrace.
Creating something more that what once took it's place.
But in the gradual process of moving forward, pipes get rusty and foundations sway.
What we will not salvage, we choose to tear down and replace.
Gravel roads become cement byways. There are parking lots where once was a grassy knoll.
Man's grand architecture is a hustle that steps on many toes.
It is two steps forward and then 3 steps back to the beat of fleeting time.
An awkward dance of stumbling that only man could design.
The true struggle of progression is where all of nature pays the ultimate cost.
For in all that man strives to gain, there is always something lost.