Here we are at the start, the seed, the many seeds, thousands, take me in your palm.
Will me to grow. Thousands of me, each seed each particle, my anger, my thrashing, my sadness. Blanket me in soil. Lightly step on me, make me have contact. The earth, the ground, the dirt. Make sure I'm touching it. Make sure I'm okay, over water me, drown me, see my thousands get washed up in the stream you made, making their way down the bank, moving away from where you had planned. Leave me. I'll be okay. There are thousands of me, I'll find my home. Further down or stayed put under your foot, I'll find my home and I will grow, It doesn't matter where, the warmth will show. Flushed in my cheeks, proud to be. Look at me everyone I am down here. Lift your foot, I've made my contact- The earth the ground the dirt, its in me now. I am it.