The smallest things seed rebellion,
the way starting tomatoes in March
leads to dreams of oregano
and basil scenting a summer walk
but less obvious, because
it is not food I am talking here
but revolution, like standing up for something
or continuing to sit, a la Rosa Parks,
or loaning a woman
35 dollars for beads and floss,
the price of a bag of groceries,
so she can sell embroidery
in a market stall, instead of her daughter
in an alley.
Not all change is big and violent,
waving signs and shouting slogans,
but quiet, the things that happen under soil
before sprouting, essential and unseen.
That’s what I’m seeding.