her eyes,
like Onyx,
a whole river can be rocked to sleep inside them,
her spirit, firey alive,
with all the plants that live inside her,
branching out leaves that create vines down her arms,
opening out at hands,
that stretch wide,
like the petals of a flowering blossoming,
her roots found only in earth,
in ground, in warm soil,
understanding the balance of how to grow a plant,
and watch it flourish in summer days,
that too little or too much water,
can damage roots from which solid stem has to go from,
to understand that lack of nutrients from love and self care can cause stunted growth,
that with all these things
and all the other things the sky pours down with,
the earth that surrounds us,
all its ailments and precious stones,
provides us with sold foundation
from which we as plants can thrive and prosper,
The proliferation of beauty,
in a single plant,
in a field full of dirt.