The Particular Sadness of Pomegranate Seeds I
She raised her palms to the sky, fingers spread, and sunk her toes into the earth. Heat-filled particles of light warmed her face and the moist cool matter softened her toes. This was life and she relished in its glory.
Nature was her mother and the ruler of the cosmos was her father. She imagined herself as a tree, her feet diving down into the rich folds of the earth, planting their roots, while her fingers extended to the heavens forming into a million branches. Leaves and flowers exploded from her branches as they begged for the gift of light from the sun.
She walked in beauty. From where she stood, a gathering of red poppies reached to