Shana Okayama
A seed lands in a pile of stray soil
A pile secluded from the test
The air is just right to germinate
The dirt is just right to root
But most importantly, the seed was ready to finally give
Into the scary dilemma of life
The seeds life continues on
Leaves form
Branches swarm
And the trunk is soon whole
The plant is a full fledged biological fractal
Even bearing fruit
But the soil couldn’t grow like the tree
Still secluded, still stranded
This mant the floras end was fate, quicker than it
Should have been
But the soils rich nutrients was just right for the venture
And the seed brough soul to the soil
But in the end the plant dies, and the dirt blows away
In force majeure
Tragic, as life is in the end
But some say the seed still remembers the soil
Its dead roots still in the soils gravely body
And the plant remembers the dirt, as its body is made of its substance
Connected by spirit
Connected by time
Separated by god’s will
Shana Okayama