Seedling

A story of what is unseen,

But far from what’s unfelt.

The secrets of TREES.

Two seedlings gliding down from atop some trees,

Time slowed and moon glowed down upon our space.

The quick search for adjacence, a tree to grow near.

Rewriting the story as if botany could fall in love.

Ready the steady cascade lit only by starlight.

Reprisal every autumn by reliving the descent.

Evidence of persuasion, of considerable decisions.

Every tree in this forest chooses where it lands.

Even the rivers form around the roots and boles.

Every season a dance of choice and finding love

Enter the endgame, there is no room for escape.

Every root must grow deep, a wretched thing to move.

Surrounding winds and stormy nights, we still stand.

Synthesize forever our branches as we grow old.

Separation no longer an option, onward we grow.

Choose where you land with care,

It’s a short way down, and a long way back up.