Earth Day

Who said you're dying? 

You tiny little thing all bundled up tight 

in a pot, in the garden,

shrivelled in the dark,

beneath the grave of clay 

among the worms and creatures of dust,

like a lifeless soul, 

awake on a moonlit night, all alone,

waiting to dwindle naked in the sunlight 

to the sound of spring 

to the smell of rain 

alive again. .

.

but wait, I'll put you up here 

on my walls

, let the man who walks the earth see 

how beautiful you'll grow up to be. 

Who said you were dying? 

you were thriving