I Am Acorn

I plead for my brothers and sisters The seasonal wind blows them away, Observe the furry urchins gather them One by one another’s life to save. Loathsome clouds a tinge of darkness Blend heedfully into soulless nights, The inclement weather caustic My cousins the leaves in spiral flight. Reduced to just a flutter Groomed to change colour with age, As they jive waltz and jive again In thunder lightning and rain. I am the last of mother’s children When I too fall to the forest floor, The fallen there await me Must have heard my desperate call. The winter solstice upon us Where I lay beneath the warmth, Red tan and gold cover me completely Above them a blanket of crystal snow. Their skin continues to crumble Decomposed they keep me fed, This afterlife the nourishment Their sustenance around does spread. Only after hibernation Do I feel an urge to grow, I’ve witnessed metamorphosis Caterpillars in labour transformed. Only now I feel a gradual motion As I dig deeper into the ground, Out of my head a commotion A seedling that searches for the sun. With no mind to carry on the species Only an instinct an act to beget a son, After all It is the merry month of May And my growth at last as finally begun! © Harry J Horsman 2020