Today, I transplant the seedlings

Of butterfly bushes,

Tender, with new-formed leaves,

Arching from delicate stems

And roots reaching out

For a hold.


Not yet strong enough

To thrive outside the sanctuary

Of a garden untended,

Their roots still too shallow

To survive the periods

Between rains.


Just as we, transplants ourselves,

Require shelter in the sanctuaries

Of our domiciles,

We who are also now foreign

From the primordial wildness

Surrounding us.


And so, we will nurture one another,

Each giving our lives

Over to the other,

So that someday

We both might blossom.


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