Beneath the surface where silence reigns,
Plates whisper tales of ancient strains.
Their edges meet with gentle grace,
Or clash with force, in a fiery embrace.
Along the lines where they converge,
Mountains rise, oceans surge.
Continents drift, a slow ballet,
As time carves paths in earth’s clay.
In the deep trench and mighty ridge,
Nature paints on a moving bridge.
Volcanoes roar, tectonic song,
A symphony where they belong.
Yet in their dance, a fragile peace,
A reminder of nature’s lease.
For in each shift, creation’s art,
Lies the heartbeat of earth’s heart.