If we dig up the
ground we stand on
aren’t we supposed to plant new things?
Even if
it takes a few seasons to bear fruit
Whether it is an
intentional bulb
that comes back
year after year
full of blooming
potential
or a wild seed
in the wind
that sprouts
from the accidental act
of exposing
fertile soul
it plants
something every time anyway
My grandparents
planted seeds of optimism
within me throughout
my life
and they always seem
to sprout
just when I need
them to
We aren’t
supposed to continue
to watch the
weeds gather
We aren’t
supposed to mow the grass down
only to watch it
grow back again
We aren’t
supposed to cut the dandelions
if we really
love honey
And I really
love honey
and dandelions
and fruit
and sowing seeds
Where did I put
my shovel?
