Parturition
Grey swept the skyline.
Thin fog hovered above the ground.
She knelt down to tuck the seed deep into the soil.
Finally, he’d been planted.
Shimmering sights so bright,
Sprouting from the dirt with a glistening light.
Nine months she watched it grow,
Slowly forming a hill under the snow.
There he was.
His thin root finally peaked.
It was in that moment,
A moment in which purity had climbed up the cells
To eat away all knowledge.
Swollen, smiles softly rose from her cheeks.
Throwing buckets of water at his small limbs,
She shredded apart weeds around his feet,
She fertilized the dirt he sat on,
Regular rituals for such a child-like tree.
He stood there stubbornly whining,
For his daily nutrition.
He continued to grow;
Branching off his tiny arms she created
Small bay leaves and pink and purple flowers.
Nothing but virginity stretched throughout his wide frame,
Feeding off every encouraging word she had spoken.
Inquisitive and Delicate he stood.
Guide that inspired this poem: