Remember when
you
were just a seed
and your mind
was an empty
sky.

No one told you
who
you’d be
you named yourself.

When your hands
started writing
curves and lines
you learned the letters.
You learned
meaning.
And the meaning of it.

Maybe
you feel small
right now
against giant woods
lost inside
a
dense forest.
But take your time.
Drink
the sunlight.
Douse into
the rain.
Permeate
the soil.
You’ll grow
big
just as
you
are supposed to be.

After all,
timbers fall.
And all
will go back
to just being
seeds.