i wonder if Seed
resists sprouting
if, before soggy myometrium
splits, they howl in horror
roar as they relent
to the ever-thrumming
cycle of life

is there a birth bellow
a growl of genesis
even from a forgotten seed?

i wonder if Seed
if, as they emerge
sacrificing seclusion
they refuse rooting
and, fearing future frailty
desire to dwell in the dark

are they resentful of beckoning light?
do they regret their own inevitable revolution?

a gasp
a green gurgle
in the face of what
they will become

and yet
they become

and maybe
it is the very minerals
of grief
that cradle conception
and bring forth

a most stunning flower

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