Kathryn 君妍 Lennon

By Kathryn Gwun-Yeen Lennon

This morning, a bead of water rolls into a sidewalk crack, and kisses a vagabond
cotyledon
out of quiescence.

Inside rigid cell walls
mitochondria breathe in/out through double membranes and the cotyledon
pushes
against the hollowness
inside its seed coat, shyly begins to
translate
stored food into
energy, begins to
synthesize possibilities
of roots finding
dignity
between molecules of soil and earthworm burrows and beetle routes
compacted under concrete sidewalks, possibilities
of leaves un-
furling declarations,
of pianissimo photosynthesis re-
claiming the streets,
of sunlight and water and carbon dioxide
transforming concealed longings
into substance.