Summer Squash

by Elizabeth Blue, 9/1/08, age 18
(a class assignment)

When the sun grows
full and ripe in the morning sky.
When the cracked Earth
begins to soften and thaw.
It is then that I shall emerge from the hard shell of my birth
My pod.
My seed.

It is then that I shall uncoil.
It is then that I shall meet you.
You who nurtured and birthed me into existence.You who kept me warm and hidden.
I shall meet you, Soil above your surface.
I shall meet you, Earth where I had not expected —
on the line where ground meets sky.

It is then that I shall meet you, Mother.
In the thin and vaguely described space
where the strength of my stocks
defies the firm and assured pull of your gravity.

In this place of balance I shall meet you
not as your baby
not as your seed
not as your spawn.

I shall meet you as me.
As I am grown.
From you but not of you.
Rooted in your strength
strong in my growth.

It is here I shall meet you Mother
As you.
As me.

Elizabeth Blue ©, 2008