water flows gently
from terrace to terrace,
carrying tomorrow within it.

hands bend toward the earth,
placing one seedling at a time,
trusting what cannot yet be seen.

nothing here grows all at once,
yet everything is increasing.

the kanji “増” speaks of growth—
not sudden abundance,
but quiet accumulation.

in soft watercolor light,
labor becomes rhythm,
and repetition becomes meaning.

to increase is not to rush,
but to continue,
without loss.