Ferns Grow on Death

The brightly green ferns,
Their jagged leaves and wilting looks
They grow on the trees
But only the dead ones
They root there in the decay
Reaching for air and light
Like I am
My marriage and past life
Decaying in real time
The ferns, they show me that
There is life despite the death of long love
Death of my past life
My old life is slowly and painfully wilting
It is sad
It is so so hard
Those ferns again, they show me
That there is light
See that up there?
The ferns growing on the dead tree?
They took advantage of death,
instead of living inside of it
And dying too
They grow on it
They see the light
I can see it too
And I’m growing Me, version 2.0
I’m building my MVP (minimal viable product) now, slowly
Though some days it feels like
Each vertical step is a step that sinks in beach sand
One foot forward, and some days, an inch back
Others, a mile
My mind ruminates, circles, spins, wonders, regrets, feels and loves
But, it’s no longer quicksand as it was in the past
It's not pulling me down any longer
I recall a Jesse Welles quote in a song: Keep Moving
"There's light at the end of the tunnel. Then again, it could be the train."
Hiking and reflecting and SEEING the ferns grow where there was death
Helped me see that it is not a train, it is light!
It’s the hopeful future and sunlight I’m reaching for
The air and sun will nourish me and I will nourish them back
With my gift of me to the universe