May 8, 2021
~ Poem Of The Day ~ May 10, 2021
~ Fourth Place ~ Premiere Contest: Nature Sponsor: Regina Mcintosh
Ah, the fortitude of a circle the circular wisdom of spring to summer fall to winter the spinning wheel’s twist of threads - at once both self-reliant and reliant my soul to embryo seed to seedling the mettle it takes for the genesis; for my poppy pod to wake and break a tiny speck of matter a fleck of duality unleashed I surrender my dormancy to the earth - roots reach deep like pale squiggly fingers ..for my kernel was laid to rest to bustle to life.. while my headstrong head pushes up through the soil I come to be.. like a new idea taking shape a physical being grounded while seeking the realm of the Sun the source of spirit as essential as the dark womb from which I emerge with a heart budding with the universe from nothing I sprout as a sprig from a rounded grain conceived in a gold-dusted flurry of furry buzz.. a bumblebee's dalliance with the center of a whorl a mote of pollen so mite-like -- but m i g h t y in purpose potential and power woven together in the art of creation wind-driven autumn rains and sips of melted snow ..mother’s milk during the passage of time.. sweetly feeds the gentle needs for my tender birth daystar’s dabble-dance with shadows charm the chill from the cradle of the garden floor - warm ginger dapples flit to find me between canopy gaps in swish and sway.. mini-spots mirroring the disk of the Sun reminds me; the image of what I’ll become when my solar heart shines in a petal-chalice of flame.. rapture stirs the layers of humus penetrating my essence with a ripening stoking my fortitude to fulfill my destiny to break free of that which holds me down and reach ever higher inspired by a promise; the golden circle of solace.. the bull's-eye in the sky whose glow does kiss and grow my soul - my inner space of bright sure to blaze in a blossom cup’s confinement my soul to embryo seed to seedling sown to assure my flowering my earthy ascension fulfills Nature’s cycle of nativity; above the loam I rise to unfurl and lift my airy leaves’ uncurl up high in praise of the light as the end of a gray season curves into the festive yellow equinox of resurgence
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