The seed

not always what you think

The seed

The Seed

I wandered through this forest lonely.

Other towering trees move out of my pathway bowing

Until only your presence filled my view.

Proudly are your branches hanging.

Pass all those in the village

Who sit, waiting for their chance to bloom

When that golden orb will be dancing in the sky

Once again, calling for them to unfurl themselves

From where they have been sleeping in the ground.

And float.

Weightless as the air surrounding.

Drifting like a young Kite’s

Feather, lost once it realised

It may fly to the highest,

Soaring over plains, mountains, forests

And fall.

Crash and burn.

Surround yourself with darkness

As you entertain the very thought

You tried to escape from:


Until uncurling from below

You stand up in your glory,

Breathing in the breath taking,

Allowing the light to raise you up.

And stand.

Never changing.

Ever ageing.

Arms raised so they become nothing

But charcoal splinters shattering

The perfect water colour of fire

Behind your head.

Reside in a crooked form.

Weeping in despair at the atrocities

You have witnessed.

Torn apart

Limb by limb.

Screaming in the night

Pelted by nothingness.

Laughed at for unmovingness.

Forgotten in the wilderness.

But here you are.

Fast rooted in the ground I found you.

Lost within the shadows of those surrounding.

But I turn my back.

I walk away through the darkness

Wishing for that day I could stand

Almost as strong as you.

surreal poetry
smith morgan
smith morgan
Read next: Poem: New Life
smith morgan

Hi i'm just doing this for fun atm to try and improve my techniques.

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