Ren: The Jade in the Window

​Once upon a time
a jade grew gangly, 
welcoming yet wilting. 
Shapeshifting and caught in its pot, 
she could no longer mother herself.

After gravity had its way with her
snips were saved, tucked with hope in
water jars on sills.

Roots peek out, thirst quenched
relocated sprouts find homes
​in earthen pots.
Hope reaching up, up, up
grasping for air, light, sight.

Stretching for heaven, rooting in earth,
standing tall, and yet,
no limbs connect 
the east to west.

Fear not young sprouts, one pair
finds a painted pot,
set upon a light filled ledge.

The two find circles
flourish aside vacated squares.
Growing north, south, east, west.
Bamboo keeps the center.

Tended by the mothers
in harmony with the fathers,
they persevere.

Covid-Day 62, Vermont
​

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