Shallow, Hairy Runners Providing Some Anchorage

We’re at the pre-root stage of culture, still,
Sprawled horizontally, barely clinging
To this shallow bed of billions of skulls.

It’s not that we aren’t sophisticated.
Don’t forget the fanciness of lichens.
We’ve got that art of symbiosis down.

But we can’t really root into the ground.
We will. We can feel it. The minerals
Are beginning to accommodate us.

It won’t be long before our symbionts,
Who sometimes think of us as parasites,
Will end up underground trading partners,

While we tap riches deeper and deeper
To anchor our giant crowns in the light.