Daisy

As I kneel in the soil

holding a fresh little body in my hand, I wonder

how does this small capsule of

sunshine and potential know what it is to become?

How does freshly cut grass know

to again turn sharp when it grow back?

Beneath the ground, waiting there

among the roots and the bugs

my little bud will know

exactly what to become while I

kneeling in the soil

must patiently await it's arrival.

I anticipate the moment when from the pregnant Earth

I see the new self-assured sprout

telling me exactly who she is.