The Last Acorn
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so long ...
dangling, bouncing on a branch
chill autumn mistrals tugging, pulling ... (hoping)
watching all the others leave
falling to their destiny
somewhere on the forest floor
far, far, far below ...
oh, I've loved my time in the canopy
growing and watching life abound about me
but I - as all acorns - long for the earthy soil to plumb and prove
for the promise of a new life, tendrils digging deep
roots finding home and hope
solid purchase, and the happy progression of continuance
(all the while, deep winter snows hide our mystery - blooming!)
it is our ONE anticipation - our ONE actuality
and it courses through all we are and do
from first we appear a-branch
to the wondrous moment we reach Mother Earth
I feel it coming now, that ...
I feel my cap pushing off ... separating from the Great One
the dear, grand tree of my growth and guidance
oh, how my heart soars, as I!
how my spirit bursts with exceeding joy
as I am finally airborne and free
and falling to life and hope and glorious continuity ...
in the dark, earthy, sweet forest floor
I fly and wonder and wait
for the soft thud ...
of promise!
~ Honorable Mention ~ in the "Brian's Choice 5, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2020
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