To Come Across You

Dry. Lifeless.

No colours, no shadows, no heartbeats.

No plants could grow

in my calloused ground.

I was left without the company of creatures.

I, a desert plane, was called

out of my corner,

and here is where I came across you:

A rainforest.

With water

and many plants

and colours

and birds

and rodents

and bugs

and berries.

I didn’t ask you to,

but,

you gave me your rain.

My calloused ground softened.

and incumbent seeds in my soil grew

and grew, and grew.

Splashes of pink and purple,

Streams of blue and silvery reflections filled

my plane.

Heartbeats shook my ground,

for the first time

in some time.

Now I’m a shrimpy forest,

a minor offshoot of your spirit.

I’m glad to have come across you.

Shopping Cart