Sunday, April 01, 2018

Day 1: Cotyledon

You furrow soil
With your hands
Building shallow
Mounds to dent in
The seeds

When the earth warms
They loosen and split
Swallowing the rain
Quietly in the loamy

Even the hardest shell
Will crack under the 
Embryonic pressue
Pushing to breach the 

There is love inside
Waiting in the dark
Until it is just warm
Until it is just moist

The seedling explodes
Dividing the good 
Earth, reaching upward
Outward, onward 
To light

Seed leaves, at first
Tender, but then 
Hardened like 
Butterfly wings
Splay out

They are the seed
Itself, transformed
Made manifest and
Green against the dark
Rich soil

Cotyledon, ancients
Might have called them
Cup-shaped hollow
Cupped, anything hollow
Filled up

"Write a love poem about a seemingly ordinary or mundane task.

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