Sprout Poem

Birth

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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