The End of the Garden

Do you break?
Do you shake
When I approach?
Quiver?
Stumble?
I think I saw it once,
A little bit of lessening
in the way you stand so still.
You are an anchor
driven deep into the roots of me-
You hold my world in place.
Sometimes I wish the ground could give a little
and swallow all the world.
Break it.
Shake it.
Watch it quiver
so I'll stumble.
Oh, I'm tired of being so still.