118.
Seedling on Earth
Then it has fallen
Now it was sunken
Unmoved like bedridden
Enchained and sullen
During its loneliness
In this somber place
Life found a space
The seed experienced solace
Downwards creep the roots
Upwards grow the shoots
Alongside carabao boots
Hope not to be crushed by coots.
-04/23/2012
(Dumarao)
*for Agri. poem in Salingsing Issue of 1st Sem., AY 2011-12
Tiny seed sprouts into a seedling,
Roots explores beyond the levelling.
Leaves widen in direction of light,
Sun turns towards it in delight.
It grows further but takes time,
under the sky is the beautiful design.
Shakes in the air with dare,
Elders greets before they retire.
Often closes its leaves in the nights,
Fearing the ghost would visit its sight.
Early sun rays create an undying hope,
Balances the body and promotes growth.
In the evening it closes itself to the world,
In a hope of soothing recovery in the dark,
Sun promised to greet the tiny ,
The seedling rested and relaxed in symphony.
When a seedling, handsome wind caught my eye
and together we flew with the birds
Then, suddenly, I tumbled from the sky
found myself in a land of rows in thirds.
Other seedlings lived there and asked my name
Bashfully, I answered, "I don't know it!”
Then you're undoubtedly a weed—for shame!
I just knew I would never outgrow it
one day, wearing silk petals, I awoke
like magic,, I was lovely. quite fancy
The queen I became by masterful stroke
and I'm now known by the name of Pansy
First Place!
On some days I don’t write any,
On others I write plenty.
It depends on my day,
I have to process it and put it away.
This writer needs to write all the time,
I don’t know if it’s a flaw or by design.
I write here and I write there,
When the words come to me, it doesn’t matter where.
I have to write to get them out,
And like a seedling, a poem sprouts.
This held, two fingered, weeness;
This infant plant, raised, with all
Its roots, soiled, dangling.
Sudden fright! A quiver-chill.
Lovely, precious, vulnerable -
The green Earth; marvelled in!
I sneak a seed into your ear.
It blooms and blooms and you can't hear
anything but the blossom, it grows and grows
and its petals fall where nobody knows.
A day passes and it's formed a trunk of wood.
I could have prevented it, I really could.
Your head is clogged and your thoughts are stuffed
with the tree and its leaves and all of its fluff.
Smashing through your skull, breaking your brain
you turn to the one who never brought it soft rain.
It's all my fault, I brought upon the curse.
I should have kept the seed, for better or for worse.
The seed is planted deep
Down within the moist soil
Slowly the seed cracks open
Allowing roots to form and uncoil
Reaching as far as it can
up towards our father sky
instinctively seeds do this,
But, I cannot tell you why
Growing, up through the earth
the new seedlings climb
Yearning for the Sunshine’s warmth
during the daytime
Finally making it through
Mother Earth’s crust
charging and feeding on
the suns rays, it must
to continue to grow until it
becomes a beautiful rose.
Here is some wisdom
that this little seedling knows
You have to keep going
even during times of strife
Theses are some lessons
You can use in your life
Things always seem the darkest
Just before the dawn
Creating the roots that
Your life can build upon
You can’t ever give up
No matter what your goal
such valuable lessons to aid
in the growth of your soul.
6/10/2020
------------------------- Seedling
Its only a dream
a little tiny green sprout
waiting to take root
GINSU - KNIFE EASTPORT , MAINE USA
At first, it was merely a seedling of hope,
struggling hard to cope.
And yet, it felt new,
as it slowly grew.
People proved they cared
how older folks fared.
The right questions asked,
their tears were unmasked.
Wash your hands with soap
truth's a safety rope,
at first, it was merely a seedling of hope.
(Rhyme)
08/14/2020
Sunny days are really warming
Evening makes you become yawning
Everybody is laughing while working
Digging seed to get good cropping
Ivy poison is a dreadful thing
Needs medicine to heal your rushing
Getting ready to prepare for Thanksgiving
In a florid month of May
I trod a field one sunny day
All is alluring- yes I can say
Draped with flowers along its way.
And in the verdant field I see
Every man with its tree
But lo, one sapling was left behind
With no one with but loneliness entwined.
Poor seedling on the ground
It withered without a sound
For when it’s planted, all care’s deprived
And amidst the heat, who can abide?
All its nearby tress bear its fruits
But poor sapling on the ground
Now withered without a sound
‘tis a painful image of the truth.
And memories come flooding on my mind
I am like a seedling left behind
For when our friendship have its birth
My heart do leaps to show a mirth
But things do change along the run
I had thought I killed the fun
But lo it’s you who broke the bond
Like we've built our friendship on a sand.
A tiny seed deep in the Earth
starving for the light
Pushing hard against the soil
one day springs to life
Looking like a fragile twig
not knowing where to go
Standing still for all the world
will soon, put on a show.....
Biding, Burrowing.
Building, breaching, burgeoning...
Breathing-- BLOSSOMING!
You were under the dirt so deep that you didn't even know that you were there.
After many days and nights of rain you still did not appear.
One morning the sun came and warmed you and you began to sprout.
Seven mornings later you poked your needles out.
Then came a new world of warmth and light, and a nightly darkness.
In this nightly darkness were stars of bright whites shooting across the sky of night.
For spring has come and you have sprung into the world of growth.
Once a seed and now a tree, life leaves more for the eye to see.
I know for I am the pollen in which you once knew, before you were a seed.
And the air in which we once breathed we now breath again.
For now you are the tree in which beams above all in the land, I am the flower who admires
all those above.
You my tree are above the rest.
Above the land is a sky of blues and grey, the greens are the fields of which we stand.
For all that is below and up above are all connected with love.
A ground so deep and a sky so high nothing is for sure but I and my.
Copyright@3-2010 MaryMMcShirley/Kilker
The apple of your eye?
That compliment is dead.
Instead, you left me dry,
Through cored-out tears I shed.
And now the cage I call my heart,
Or perhaps a fortress, rather
Cold and in the darkness now,
For this I thank you, Father.
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