Mother of Thousands

Tiny green leaves fall from the outspread 
tips of the mother. She is called Mother 
of Thousands because everything that lurches 
is launched into its new life apart. They dig 
into the soil; for what might seem a century 
or what might seem merely a day, they become 
accustomed to this new feeling of being re-sown. 
Does anything still anchor them to their origins? 
There doesn't seem to be any real danger where 
they've begun to take root—at least not the kind 
that bares fangs or takes heads. The stones are small 
and uniform in shape and size. The light sets 
and rises several times a day. Their tiny ears 
tremble at the trickle of water that comes from above. 
The sky is the color of gesso board: barren and 
flat, untroubled by any need to divide or multiply.