Untitled from Notebook

I split the center of a big, beautiful leaf of a little tree that I love like a mother. She wept at the tear.

She doesn’t understand why she is hurt. Living in the lawn she is accustomed to a safety not granted to her ancestors.

She wept how she had never wept before. She wept as her mother may have wept. And as the seed that became her had, cried the hidden tears of the seed still burrowed under the earth waiting to bloom.

She wept as the rainforest has all these years. How the rain must have muddied the earth when a piece of it was torn to bring her here.