Seed
By Alan Botsford Saitoh

Anybody can see the seed of change:

It curls, fern-like, out from under

Every moment, a tongue, a feather,

A flame lifting into the air,

Its presence, like a loaf of bread,

Rising to every occasion. And into

The soil of wherever it is, it puts down

Roots like fingertips… before bunching

Like a fist into a budding revolution.