on the days i scatter seeds in cracked pots, return fledglings to their nests, and build bug hotels from pinecones, i learn that reciprocity is not a word but a season that arrives in the shape of blossoms, clear water, and the hum of life unseen
Los Altos, CA
2025, Junior, Poetry & Spoken Word
the cycle starts & so the rain seeps into the cracked earth,
our hands scatter seeds in cracked pots,
the soil softening beneath our touch,
our quiet tending,
pulling weeds from the garden bed,
watering the thirsty roots,
watching green unfurl in slow response.
the earth breathes back—
a sprout pushing through last year’s leaves,
a bee buzzing over marigolds,
the hum of life rising from small kindnesses.
we clear the trash from the creek’s edge,
and the water runs clearer,
fish darting in grateful currents.
we leave apples for deer at the edge of the woods,
hang birdseed in winter,
let clover grow wild for the bees,
return fallen fledglings to their nests,
gather autumn leaves for mulch,
press wildflowers in books,
plant milkweed for monarchs,
share basil from window boxes with neighbors,
build bug hotels from sticks and pinecones.
in these exchanges—
the world answers not with thunder,
but with the mushrooms after rain,
the slow return of fireflies to dusk,
the roots that hold the hillside steady,
the air sharpened by pine and mint,
in the endless cycle—
of giving and receiving,
looking inside, going outside,
held in the quiet conversation
between soil and skin.
Reflection
The idea for my poem grew from a persistent observation: while the world talks about nature in terms of vastness—oceans, forests, climate disasters—our most immediate, transformative connections with the natural world happen in the smallest, most everyday acts—like pulling weeds, feeding birds, or planting seeds. I wanted to explore how these quiet gestures are not just personal habits, but essential threads in a shared cycle: when we help nature, it helps us back. This mutual reliance inspired me to focus on the mundane, fundamental ways we interact with the natural world, which are as important as the grand gestures. My message is simple: every small act of kindness toward the earth matters. When we tend to nature—no matter how quietly—it responds, and together we sustain a living cycle. We need nature, and, in countless small ways, nature needs us too.