Part VI · Settled
The Bird, The Seed, & The Observer
A Parable on Abandonment
I. Sidewalk Bloom (The Observer)
The bird dropped a seed—
didn’t like the taste
anymore.
It rolled
into a sidewalk crack,
tucked in earth
where water gathers,
where sun lingers
before shadow returns.
And still—
it bloomed.
The weight of letting go
whispered:
grow.
II. Beneath the Concrete (The Seed)
I wasn’t ready—
but I was dropped.
Spit out
for being too much,
or not enough.
I rolled
into the fracture,
tight and cold,
and waited.
Rain came.
So did light.
It hurt
to push through stone—
but I reached.
Even discarded,
I bloom.
III. Mouthful (The Bird)
It was only a seed—
bitter,
hard to hold.
I dropped it,
mid-flight.
Didn’t look back.
Didn’t care
where it fell.
I flew on.
That’s what I do.
If it grew,
it wasn’t for me.
If it reached the sun—
it did so
alone.