Flat like dried bats

Won’t you come back
Through the crack, that silence
Between what is and
What can be said?
It’s so peaceful there
Under the roots of the grass
And the flowers.
Tree roots dig tunnels
They mine, looking for new
Places to  connect
And we see the light in the gap
See people from underneath
See their shoes’ weathered soles
Want to be held
Not seen but touched.
Want to meld.
I imagine we  meet
In this place underneath
Flat like dried bats
Inching our way to the light
Out of the night
Quite out of sight