Seeds and Leaves

A seed falls on a leaf, falling from a tree,
through the brothers that it leaves, towards a ground it yet cannot see.

A beast walks below, on soil of sand or snow,
and breathes to not yet know, the seed about to show.

The planet here...it creeps, inwards, outwards, seeks, that which earth secretly secretes,
to humans but not to beasts, which silently it seats, waiting for approaching herbivourious treats.

The bellies of the beasts rumble like the jelly of the jungle beats,
life castrated from the meat, to simple homes of embryos.

Into sight beneath the canopy, the seeds can be seen, but we cannot see the sky,
only the trees from which fall seeds and leaves, falling directly into the bellies of beasts, excretions falling susceptible to disease but still seed strong enough to plant new trees, creation of how to breathe and creator of what we see.