Mavin Plants Seeds of the Past

 

(Source)

((I know I specifically share poems on the full moon, and this is an excerpt from a novel. However, Seiler is a poet and that much is certainly reflected in his poetic prose.))

Mavin poured a small pile of seeds in his left hand. Each seed felt like a tiny vibrant city. He thought of Kep and thanked her for saving him. He thought of Lars and Trish and his mother. He thought of his grandfathers and his people. He thought of the whole wide world once full of ten billion souls. The soft damp earth smelled alive and sweet. He opened his eyes. The silky mist around them began to rise.

As the seeds sifted through his fingertips, Mavin let go of his old view of the world. Facts and figures were cardboard. Existence was a burning, roiling, continuous funeral and birth--immeasurable. He walked in a spiraling circle feathering the living grains thru his fingers.

Seiler, Mark Daniel. River's Child, Owl House Books, 2018, 144-145.