The Garden of Part of Me
There grows within us a flourishing flow
undisturbed it slowly builds in all the words that we know
the masterful practice of vocabulary and sentence
or the act of imagining the hazardous gas of Saturn's defenses
Tabula Rasa as the mind is exposed,
an eye to the sky twisted atop a spine from the stone
one cries all alone misaligned in forebode,
the prying dying throes creep in behind all the moans
but wiry nodes link the eyes to the cones carrying traction
and sight derives what's been shone through those very actions
barium matchstick o' fire and splendor,
from a child to adulthood but none surviving the embers
but still we long to be strong while we silently venture
learning new skills as we stride and adventure
exploring the world and so too exploring ourselves.
It's slow, the careless might miss it
growing each day as we dare to strike quickest
training in pain so we can bear to fight sickness.
Muscles flex, tendons drive connections
the fingertips learn to grip and bend and pry protection
braving the cold, never terrified, we're restless!
The garden inside, the flowering plant
we race determined toward our towering plans
so the day that we fall we can be proud of our stance
and all we've achieved though now out of our hands.
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