The Wild Life of a Seed

A dead thought has been compared to a stone which one may plant in the soil. Nothing will come out. A living thought is like a seed.  ---Abraham Joshua Heschel
all around lay quiet
at first light, gray
of lidded sky

winter trees and swelling black birds
eager for scarecrow pie

flash of lightening
and onion peels the sky
makes me cry

but I sit and wait
fear is coiled
but steadfast
(braced)
is this little light
o mine

the ground is shaking
and into a hole my legs scramble
beaks all around, but I was
buried deep

time to wait

full of earth and water
a wet fire burns
and swells
until I burst

and limbs tumble forth
in all directions

Comments

Derek said…
I liked this poem the very first time I read it, which was a while ago my friend. I've refrenced it a couple times actually. We should accumulate some poems and put them between leather to share with one another.

Ber and I are celebrating eight years of marriage this weekend, I wrote this poem for her. I thought I'd share with you for joy's sake. Also the titile of the poem...



For Joy's Sake



climbing through limbs nimble,
heart ablaze, simple and humble

she leans into the furious wind,
cusps of hair dance and bend

rolls of thunder bellow above,
yet vigor holds her to love

wooden helm, shattered and bruised,
hoisted sail torn and greatly used

children coil in awe and fear,
motherhood victorious here

this child of light, bright and true
her majesty reflects the ocean blue

amongst a wave of sinners and saints,
steadfast devotion that never faints

thousands of angels whisper of virtue,
yet nary a shade of a haughty red hue

chariots await to carry her through,
pragmatism and cynicism too

mysteriously a sister and bride,
I'll always be right at your side
jaypercival said…
Congratulations! And thank you for sharing your poem. I really like it. Eight years! That is terrific!

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