charity Wilson
Survival Instinct
By: Charity Wilson
She is the vibrant green, smearing her color across the limbs of
mighty oaks and the slowest of sloths.
She is the peeking of fairest fuzz that slips and falls the bravest
jumpers from cliffs and shallow ponds.
She is who digs deep enough to stay alive but cannot breach the
surface to root.
She is fruitless.
While she lives and breathes and spreads to more lands than most
humans travel, she is bound to crawl amongst things anchored.
First to brave the arid world and climb from seas, she relies upon
the fitful rain to nourish, as stones and fallen branches provide no
source.
She has no toes or ears or pain or map to guide her, but survives
and thrives when she should crumble to dust and return to the
earth.
Science says she has no soul.
But, if moss controls not her journey, her path atop the carpet, then
who thinks for her?
Who taught her to seek low ground and mimic velvet?
By: Charity Wilson
She is the vibrant green, smearing her color across the limbs of
mighty oaks and the slowest of sloths.
She is the peeking of fairest fuzz that slips and falls the bravest
jumpers from cliffs and shallow ponds.
She is who digs deep enough to stay alive but cannot breach the
surface to root.
She is fruitless.
While she lives and breathes and spreads to more lands than most
humans travel, she is bound to crawl amongst things anchored.
First to brave the arid world and climb from seas, she relies upon
the fitful rain to nourish, as stones and fallen branches provide no
source.
She has no toes or ears or pain or map to guide her, but survives
and thrives when she should crumble to dust and return to the
earth.
Science says she has no soul.
But, if moss controls not her journey, her path atop the carpet, then
who thinks for her?
Who taught her to seek low ground and mimic velvet?