In the beginning
There was nothing,
Nothing but the minute possibility
For life to spring into reality

From that potential I -
Yet a sapling - grew.
All beamed with freshness
All was green, lush and new

Seasons changed,
And I with them.
Fragments of my primordial self
Began to wither at the hem.

Being so young
I clung fervently
To these parts of me
Instead of setting them free

But once I pruned them away
Like the shrivelled branches of a grapevine
What came back
Was stronger and more bountiful than before