Fiddle Leaf Fig

I found her hidden from the light. Not mine,

just waiting for someone to notice.

She had stretched herself thin

reaching toward a sun she couldn't quite find.

So I cut her back. Not out of cruelty, but trust.

For weeks, nothing.

Then tiny green promises

appeared along the stem.

Nubs became leaves. Leaves multiplied.

The bare branches I thought I'd lost,

cut into small pieces and placed in water,

grew roots of their own.

Now they stand beside their mother, young and bright.

A small forest born from a single wound.

When I look at them

I think about time.

How quietly it works.

How often it asks us to wait

without promising anything in return.

& she still has plenty more to grow :)