We plant our seeds
and watch them grow.
What they become,
how could we know?

They reach, they stretch,
they sway, they bend,
searching for shape, and for what is within.

Nurtured with kindness and pruned with love,
we hope they are strong enough to resist the bugs.

Soon their blossoms float on the wind.
In no certain direction their lives begin.

We gave them guidance, direction, and light.
We worry and pray we did things right.
Search your soul, it will set you free.
Because the apple, in time, falls close to the tree.

-Kimberly Mengshoel 2011

Eliane (age 6) mimicking me.