#50PreciousWords

THE SPROUT CYCLE

I wasn't planning on participating in Vivian Kirkfield's #50preciouswords contest because...I've been tired.

Emotionally, mentally, physically.

I think a lot of us are tired. We're tired from clenching our fists and jaws from trying to survive a pandemic. We're tired from the mental load we've been carrying when we try to balance all the "must-do" and "to-do" and "what-do-I-do?" things that come with the basic logistics of life. And we're tired from riding the waves of grief, whether it's the loss of a loved one, a job, or a sense of stability.

So very tired.

But today, for whatever reason, two words popped in my head.

On repeat.

It made me think about how time will continue to tick on. The world continues to revolve. And I jotted down my tiny story about a tiny life.

Here it is...

Sunrise, sunset.

A seed starts to unfurl.

Sunrise, sunset.

The flower petals curl.

Sunrise, sunset.

With a sigh it wilts and goes.

Sunrise, sunset.

Winter lays a blanket of snow.

Sunrise, sunset.

A warmer air flows by,

Sunrise, sunset.

A brand new seed says hi.

Even though I don't have a green thumb (rest in peace, past succulents of yore) I got a neighborhood garden plot because the kiddo expressed interest and fascination with growing things every time we walked by. We planted some seeds and, to my surprise, some of them started to pop out from the soil.

Is this story cheesy? Yeah. Is it pretty basic? Sure.

But something told me it had to be written, and I'm grateful for the challenge and the kidlit community that got my brain churning.

And to any reader that is feeling drained and on the wane right now, I hear you. I see you. Here's hoping we can all continue to weather through every sunrise and sunset.

Thanks for reading.