Sprout Poem


By the waxing moon they swell

tidal forces pulse sap upwards

an ancient draw


They work all night

freeing themselves from their close sac

from earth

from darkness


Inch by inch, creating selves

tiny radicles grasp

damp seed leaves press and expand


They shed their shells

slip forth


First exchange of breath

first light


I smell the sweet scalp, thin skin


Small, yet all of their self is expressed

in their every part


About Mulysa

I love my work as a landscape designer and artist. When I'm not planning homesteads or working in the studio, you'll find me hiking, photographing, gardening, baking, cooking vegetarian meals with friends, reading and working on sustainability issues...with my baby on my hip in Portland, Oregon.
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