Vines for Veins

My roots reach into the soil
and my blades tip toward the sky.
I am entangled
in my footsteps
and mixed in
with the underbrush.

I have foot holds
in these
granules of earth,
but I am not kept
from exploring.

Part of me
erodes with each storm,
free to follow
new desires.
Some of yours
washed onto me
taking the place
of rain's etchings.

I am changed
by more
than earth's rotations.
Thoughts of mine
rethink themselves-
sometimes with the shoots of others
giving reassurance
within their shade.

There is no limit to growth
when the sky
appears so infinite,
but my perception
is miscalculated.
Expansion pushes up
against the walls
of other gardens.
I don't always succeed,
but I am
as persistent as grass

creeping up the cracks

in a gray sidewalk.