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She is here, my soul’s desire.
The clearest form of my truest self.
Celestial and corporeal doulas patiently coaxed her into physical existence.
She will find her way.
Nestled under my skin, she spent years siphoning the nutrients of my earthly body.
At last,
She burrows through my strata, fracturing my crust to reach the sun.
I never knew I was protecting her.
Her guardians, the weeds, have grown rampant.
Stabilizing the soil and shielding her from predators.
Now the weeds must submit and be plucked from my heart root and stem.
She needs room to thrive.
Joyously she clears the pokeweed, fear, thistle and shame.
Honoring the Japanese art of co-planting, she leaves the dandelions and vigilance.
She is a sacred crop, aware and unafraid of the local fauna, who are covetous, find her delectable, and wish to fill their bellies with her light.
Exposed, vulnerable, she persists gladly.
Laughing loudly, willowy stalks swaying in the wind, tender leaves bathed in light.
Welcoming the rain, darkness, cold and heat.
The wisdom of my soil has prepared her with endurance.
Surmounting everything she encounters.
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She is earth, air, fire, water, and ether made manifest.
Content with her place in the cosmos.
There is nothing left to fear.
One day, she will become tall, hearty, and hale.
She will propagate and infiltrate.
She will be trampled,
her blossoms harvested,
her life force repurposed, and yet…
She returns eternally, verdant and victorious.
Sacred Soul sister, she is me, I am she, we, us.
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