Buds and Spuds, Stars and the Ever Changing Nature of Identity

A cluster of stars shoot off into the horizon
And Earth's orbit positions itself once more
To see them fly away.
Their contrails longing for the distance
And how they reach into an
Ever-changing,
Ever-evolving
Constellation.

The questions we ask ourselves
We embrace them with open arms;
A curiosity that touches discomfort.
The playfulness that embodies
A knowing of oneself
Ourselves connected stronger by the
What-The-Fuck-ery we find our feet planted in
Until we inevitably find our roots.

I am a walking shrub
Speaking with elder trees
Onlookers of those that come after them.
My fellow green friends bloom
In so many different ways
And grow
In all sorts of directions.
We welcome the petals,
We welcome the thorns,
We welcome the tangle, the stragglers, the fuzzy leaves
And we welcome those
Still in their pots.