A Poem from Below

This is my first poem on this site, and it sort of reflects my insecurities about being a somewhat new writer.

I’m starved of the scared fruit
with thirst for a dapple juice.
I’ll bore ‘til I scratch those roots.
See if the seeds are of use.

I love when this forest shines,
but far I’m below the trees.
No do on these paper shrines
as afterglows come to see.

Author's Note

I welcome comments and constructive criticism.