A patch of mud and a decent amount of nutrients. It wriggles amongst the filth and breaks down the detritus. Its face, covered in dirt, is blind to the darkness all around. In its wake, a root slithers its way deeper underground, eagerly reaching out for moisture and food. The root, dotted with hairs and offshoots, leads up to the surface, breaking free into a stem of green. The sun bathes the stem and the broken clouds overhead continue on their journey. Leaves and flowering buds dot the stem, and at its apex, a large flower sits.
A pollinator, a butterfly, is perched in its bosom, suckling eagerly at the surrendered present. On its wings, it approaches another, and another, before having its fill. Finally settling on the brown branches of a tree, the butterfly breathes in a moment of respite and waits, shaking pollen from its wings. The pollen drifts, listlessly, to the ground below, caught on wind, with hopes of reproduction and creation. One lands back on its parent, burrowing into the stigma, ready to create the seeds of the next generation.
Today's prompt: dirt on face
If you'd like to participate too, the contest can be found here: @mariannewest/day-1544-5-minute-freewrite-wednesday-prompt-dirt-on-face