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
Copyright © Harry Horsman | Year Posted 2020
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