Jasmin's Prompt:

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Seeds buried. Roots grounded. Soil heavy with water.

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What are you cultivating within?

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Respond to the prompt in poetry or prose.

abiding

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The Northern flicker sits
high in the green ash tree,
assessing the state of things,
her stillness all I need to know
of the season to come.
 

I set urgency aside,
leave foraging and
flitting behind.
 

I, too, have stored seeds,
tucked them safely away
in places etched deep in memory
I return to for sustenance.
 

With each winter,
I am learning what it is to be
my own insulation,
my own resting place,
 

learning what it is to trust
I have enough, I am enough
to abide this season
until it is time to blossom anew.