After breaking through the seed’s shell
And through the cold ground above,
The tree casts a limb.

That first split:
The first attempt to differentiate,
To individualize, to risk.

From there, the tree splits until infinity.
With more opportunities to branch arriving after each split,
The tree can now become its fullest form.


The Final Gem


Then I saw her eyes,
Brimming with little men
Carving dust and tears
Behind the thinning veil.

With her last breath,
A whisper says, “how nice it was.”

That was my sister,
Unaged by time’s sweat and snow
From wrestling the mountain
Only wanting to inhabit herself.