You are so little to be set loose
in the wide prairie, your arms
no more than twigs, your trunk
pencil-thin.
As we press earth around your roots,
we pray that the sun and the soil
will feed you, the rain will enliven you,
the moon will watch over you,
that you will grow up
into the sky and down into
the earth, that you will feel
welcomed and nourished by
your neighbors, that you will
feel a sense of belonging,
that this place was just where
you wanted to be.
—Carol Tyx, Prairiewoods artist in residence