Seedlings (phoenix poem)

“Here,”
I said
my child palms showing you
the things I loved
the things that shook my heart more alive

you smacked my hands
my cherished things falling into dirt
“No!” you screamed in my face
“Not allowed
Not allowed
Not allowed”
to love these things means
you are wicked

so I put them away
I hid them
for years
my greatest crime
that I forgot them

but they didn’t forget me
they stirred like seeds in soil
on a warm spring day

so when I evicted you from my heart
and made space for loved things to grow
when your winter cold left my bones
they could feel the sun again

when I saw their leaves
I knew
I would never allow your frost to destroy them
ever again

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