Reena’s Xploration Challenge #436
What the Roots Knew
Every autumn, my grandmother would stand by the old tree in the garden, watching the leaves drift to the ground. As a child, I thought the tree was dying.
She would smile and say, “Watch the roots instead.”
I didn’t understand until years later.
Life has a way of shedding what can no longer stay. Dreams fall like leaves. Relationships change. Seasons bury us beneath unexpected winters where nothing seems to grow.
Yet beneath the frozen ground, unseen by hurried eyes, the seeds are never asleep. They are listening.
The wind may scatter us in different directions. We leave childhood homes, become parents, then grandparents. We lose people we thought we couldn’t live without. We discover new versions of ourselves we never expected to meet.
And somehow, the path circles back—not to where we began, but to who we have become.
Time bends memories into softer shapes.
The leaves always fall.
The snow always comes.
But the roots remember.
So does the heart.
PROMPT #436
PROMPT #436 You need to wear your hat of a prose artist or a poem constructor, and see what works better for you.I give you a stanza of a poem that should be expanded to prose. Make it a story, anecdote, memory, non-fiction or any other form. There is no limit on the number of words.Leaves fall, yet roots endure,snow buries, yet seeds dream,winds scatter, yet paths returntime bends, but life remembers.2. And here’s a paragraph. Your job is to condense the spirit of it into a poem. Keep it within 3-20 lines. The seasons shift like unspoken truths—summer’s blaze softens into autumn’s hush, winter’s silence yields to spring’s renewal. In each turn, the human heart mirrors the cycle: burning with desire, retreating into reflection, and blossoming again with fragile hope.You are free to choose any one or try your hand at both. I will be glad to see a completely different twist to the theme, too.There is no restriction on the length of the piece. There is no last date unless you wish to be featured in the Weekly Wrap.
With love, coffee, poetry, and stardust,
— Maggie The Afterlove Voice 💫
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