Fall Into Place

A window,
Framing formative years And seedlings
Never planted.

Mother's hand in Daughter's need
To disperse
Taken for granted.

Windproof
On my windowsill:
Are we not all born
With built-in parachutes?

Now giving this maple
Back its youth
Is like playing with lifelines. Crossing and partings
Of sky and earth
Traced back to a
Sovereign branching.

In these landings,
I see death nestled
In the shades of life.

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