I felt like I was in the middle of the damp earth:
mud itself.
Then I discovered myself as a seed:
I began to grow.
I rose to something I did not understand
and the more I elevated myself,
the more I felt the need to use that damp earth.
It was as if that mud nourished me and made me grow.
I began to take shape.
I was a stem, I was a leaf.
And the more I rose, the more I felt the need
to use that damp earth.
I began to have the sensation
that there were others like me,
in the same situation.
I saw them.
And our roots, in the midst of that damp earth,
were leaning on each other:
so connected that we felt
we were one.
We were stem, we were leaf, we were flower.
And the damp earth began to lose its muddy aspect.
We bloomed together: the others and me.
Our petals covered the damp earth with their colors
and with a perfume that transcended all understanding,
reverberating for miles:
miles away from us.
We were trees.
Or, maybe, continuations of each other.
We were stem, we were leaves, we were flowers, we were fruits,
firmly standing in that damp earth, that nourished us
with something that elevated us.
Our sweet fruits nourished the most varied species of beings
that propagated our seeds for miles around:
we were everywhere.
We were stem, we were leaves, we were flowers, we were fruits.
We were Everything.
And in this Everything, we were also Nothing:
neither seed, nor stem, nor leaves, nor flowers, nor fruits.
Without definition.
Everywhere.
We simply were.
