A cotyledon’s tender true leaves come unhinged and two stronger leaves unfurl.
The tendrils grow and grasp until a trellis is found — oh miraculous mound of earth that placed me so close to a chainlink ladder. I’m lucky. I’m upward bound, no eyes to look down.
Somewhere near me human eyes blink. And during that space between observation and appreciation, my leaves crash up, ever up, toward the rainbow hiding in every blue sky.
Soon blossoms will grace the crooks of my arms — from which I will nourish the tender pods created like all living things create beauty. Simply. Living fully.
I am thankful for rich, dark soil.