If I am intimate with
the movements of the earth
and do not share her secrets
it is because
I leap up from her flesh
suddenly, a quake-spawned mountain
spewing ash and steam
or a weed,
growing overnight
wild and spiny,
my roots deep
to tap heat from underground
to feed a bloom
scarlet and singing.
One is dangerous.
The other inconvenient,
but beautiful.
It all depends
on how, precisely
you see it.
Susan Daniels Poetry 
The many dimensions of our being…and the role of the environment (interacting with our personal choices?) in potentiating each of them. Lovely! You put this so nicely, and I see part of the inspiration in the stubborn shoot reaching out for light and life through cracks in the rock as the gentle stream slowly strolls by singing!
Wow–you have your finger on the pulse of my process, which now bounds madly, the muse whispering ideas in my ears, “Use the finger on the pulse of process, you must use it…” 🙂
Thanks so much for reading and commenting–always a pleasure to read your comments!