The Gifts

She hangs her head,
peacefully resigned to her fate,
to finally feed with her body
the last of nature’s hungry children,
the microbes and bacteria and fungi
that restore the soil
and trap life-granting nutrients
for her children,
strewn across the sun-lit fields
by furtive birds
and squirrels.
She hangs her head,
adorned with God’s signature
written in the artful sequence
of one-one-two-three-five,
a spiral dance of living children,
girded for a better life than she,
evolved against disease
and drought
and famine,
ingrained with the code,
modified instructions to paint their faces
as they gaze lovingly at the sun,
even as she spent her days,
basking in the glory of that light.
And now she bows,
silent and proud
in her gifts to her young,
and to the bird and squirrel,
as she finally beds to the Earth,
to return as her final gift,
that initial gift granted her,



in response to Where by Kalina @


3 responses to “The Gifts

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