I don't know how many times I've walked across
the parking lot outside my home, but it must be somewhere
in the thousands. Just today, for whatever reason,
I finally noticed the way the seeds had fallen into the cracks
in the asphalt. They lay in the fissures, slowly
taking back the Earth. Overlapping, creating a golden
path where the seeds would eventually sprout,
green grasses and little trees reach upward,
sheltered by the twigs.
It looked like maps of the Mississippi, a giant river,
pushing, taking back, exerting its will on man's plan.