Greening

Along the ever-surging edge

of what’s alive,

There’s no time

for construction of a casing.

The growing tip is light and soft,

Ever moving into what it is becoming.

The story, the woody stem,

That which will uphold it

over future years

Will come later

in the established corridors

of nurture and support —

The long-stretched-out connection

between root and frond

But its identity,

Its form, its exaltation,

Its phototropic, geotropic

orientation,

The sensitivity, and the sensation,

Are most felt

in this newly forming green.

©Wendy Mulhern

April 26, 2013