from the flower comes a seed…
that falls to drop,
hitting by imprinting,
into a newly found
cushion soil bed

percussion in next to Mother’s stem
which stood shook to endure
all sorts of temperate measures
some mild, others
wildly beguiling

when as a young shoot
she sprouted up through
the barrier wreathed ground to bask 
bast in the light of starry daze and nights

or was manipulated in the making
by a cancerous haze infiltrated with
manufactured chemical solvents

disrupting a harmonious state
of a chord ancestrally woven
grown strong with planted roots
up through the flowering abyss 

a single embryo seed still comes to be
laying snug, buried over by mud
either from a garden shovel or an overhead
storm has now only to re-member Mother’s glory
when out the shining pedicel

next to decomposing petals
that once held ablaze within them a
fire ignited from a scorching pistil

the seedling from the flower sleeps dormant
resting with preserved nectar
for a new torch will soon be lit
a legacy born again straight from the
stored shores of churning victories

regardless of withering conditions
presumptuous afflictions
enraptured together in bouquets of past and presence
is consciousness as consciousness
that makes it all come to
be as matter unraveling
infinite possibilities