two homes

there is a sadness
oozing within,
not without,
slowly burning the walls
of this fragile stalk,
who for a moment,
forgot who she was,
and where she was rooted -
in the moist humus
that holds it all,
where life
breaks through
and breaks down,
where she cannot hold on
even a moment longer
than what must be,
to these seeds
who have two homes -
where they are born
and where they are taken
to be born once more,
in the same moistness
in another heart,
in another time.