As a seed, I was shot out the back end of a blue jay when, heedless, she flew over the meadow, dipping just low enough to leave me behind. There was no grand moment—just a soft plop near a dandelion, the kind of thing that happens without anyone noticing. I lay there for a while and listened to the wind shuffling through weeds.
Rain murmured softly in the dark, and the soil wrapped me in its slow, earthen hush. I drifted in and out of a kind of sleep where dreams had no edges—just warmth, weightlessness, and the vague memory of wings. Somewhere beneath all that quiet, something small inside me stirred.
Now I am green and stretching, part of the hush myself. I don’t remember the fall, only the floating, and the sense that even in the smallest drop, flight continues.
Photo credits: A Blue Jay perched on a fence by Messina, Pexels.
Posted for Prosery: In the words of Lisa Bellamy @dVerse Poets Pub
Sanaa, I like where you flew with this one.
Thank you so much, Lisa 😀 so glad it resonated with you 💄❤️
I feel this very much as a the voice of everything that grows… and the wish to fly with that.
Thank you so much, Bjorn 😀 so glad you liked it 💄❤️
The glory is in the details, the carefully crafted words shaved to fit just right, like the dream without edges, the earth wrapping…those are what makes this little take fly…
“Rain murmured softly in the dark”
Luv the poetic language in your flash fiction
Much♡love
Part of the hush – beautiful writing, Sanaa!
Very beautifully written, Sanaa!
Not remembering the fall… we tend to avoid remembering the difficult and accentuate the beautiful experiences!
Your piece complements the poem so nicely, beautiful!
I love that you wrote from the point of view of the seed, Sanaa, and we followed its life cycle. I especially love that she landed with ‘a soft plop near a dandelion’ and the soil wrapped her ‘in its slow, earthen hush’, of which she became a part. Such a comforting piece of Prosery.
An enchanted piece!
“the kind of thing that happens without anyone noticing”
I used to spend too much time trying to photograph Nature until I realized that looking through a lens blinded me to observing the miracle.
Perfection, Sanaa!
I think that’s an excellent way to begin a poem. Love it. And of course, Stringy legs follow. This is nature’s way— no matter how we got here, we have all the tools to survive. Let’s. Thanks for the lovely prompt Enjoyed.
Beautiful prosery, Sanaa! I loved the softness of it.
Yvette M Calleiro 🙂
http://yvettemcalleiro.blogspot.com
Sanaa, this feels so gentle and alive—I love how you captured rebirth as something both ordinary and profound. It seems to me you’ve written a memory of becoming.
Much love,
David