Plantcestors
Aren’t we all just seeds to start?
Seeds planted in the eyes of our creator
Progenitor of our existence
Is that why we feel kinship
with our plantcestors?
Deeply rooted in kéyah
we develop limbs and leaves
and systems of connection
We, too, become life bringers
of thoughts and ideas
of kindness and community
sometimes of biological kin
“We are all connected”
is not just some trite phrase
It is remembrance
that we are all unified
by the molecules that make us
You, me, and the tree
Flourishing
When I was five
my kindergarten teacher
assigned us to grow a plant
I asked my dad for help
he went to the trees outside our door
He collected a chinese elm seed
it looked flat, pale yellow, and crepe papery
I doubted such a small thing
could create something
like those huge elms outside
I should have known its capacity
For I was also a small thing
Who flourished under my dad’s care
We placed it in a pint sized
paper milk carton with the top cut off
he filled it three quarters full with dirt from the yard
We, mostly he, watered that seed
A few weeks later that seed sprouted
That’s how I learned my hands could be magic
Almost forty years later and that tree
has grown to be a large shade tree
and my dad still waters it weekly
I had forgotten about that tree
but he has not
Its canopy shading and sheltering
a new wave of progeny
in the form of apricot seedlings
That tree has flourished under his care
Rebecca Kinkade-Black is a Diné amateur poet. When she’s not writing or tending to her plants, she likes to spend time with her wife, her parents, and their dog.