beneath the edifice of stick and stone,
a quiet,
knowing network of its own
refuses every binary design,
the either-or,
the punitive line.
it works in darkness,
not for praise or light,
connecting root to root without a fight.
a whispered currency of common grace,
a vast,
unseen,
and interwoven space.

no single node commands,
no central brain,
just shared intent to lessen common pain.
the nutrient that one alone would lack,
is passed through a hyphal,
branching track.
what strengthens you,
by default,
strengthens me,
in a silent,
boundless reciprocity.
the waste the towering system leaves behind,
it breaks it down to feed what it can find.

and from this dark,
connective, patient grace,
a different form begins to find its place.
it rises not from mandate or from threat,
but from the ground of needs already met.
a mushroom ring, a testament,
a sign,
of power made collective and divine.
it asks for no permission to arise,
it just appears before their startled eyes.

the final contrast is not stick to carrot,
but the lonely tower to the shared forest that grew there.
it is the brittle,
single,
concrete form
against the soft,
resilient,
living swarm.
the system starves on its own thin supplies,
while just beneath,
the deeper system thrives.
it doesn't break the edifice with force,
it simply offers a divergent course.