We Fell, We Grow

Our parents, hard and tall or soft and broad, gave us life.

Soon on our own, yet not so far away.

What to do? Parents so mature, so strong. We, so young and so fragile.

Left alone, yet not quite so - the soil, our bed; they cultured, they made for us.

We fell, off the branch, off the bloom. We fell in love with our new home. We dug deep, as deep as could be, taking claim.

We landed and now the journey begins. Coaxed, somewhat. 

There is music where earth meets atmosphere - we live there.

Grow. We shall.