The seeds of Life
We’re given
Are mostly
Seeds of Doubt,
But they are
Nature’s bounty;
We must see
What they’re about.
You’ve one summer
And one garden,
Both are small
From side to side.
Then take the seeds
You’re given
And sow them
Far and wide.
Some bloom
And wither instantly;
Examine their
Brief day.
Don’t ignore
A golden crocus
Because it cannot stay...
Immortal tint,
Ethereal glint, or not;
No one can say.
There will be
Weeds and nettles.
Let them have
Their scope;
The bane of
Every gardener
Teaches him
To cope.
The wild flowers
Will amaze you,
Every shape and hue
To wake the
Hidden riches
Of the garden...
And of you,
Blooms and sprays of love
And friendship,
Curiosity, desire, elation,
Love, hope, and endeavor,
Courage, inspiration.
These seeds endue
Life’s green explosion
That happens
Every spring,
And though they may be
Seeds of Doubt,
They are the only thing.
The germ of
Gaudy riches,
They spark
A grand profusion.
This garden is an ecstasy
Of near divine confusion.
Enjoy it all,
But look not for
The apple granting
A fruit still as forbidden,
As Adam found in Eden.
Nor dissect the lily
To find its secret truth;
Every soul
Must abandon
This folly
Of our youth.
Nor seek
A single meaning
For the buttercups and bees;
Each heart
Makes its own meaning
Of everything it sees.
And there’s the seed
You must avoid.
It also blooms in spring,
And if it’s not
Hoed under,
Becomes a
Deadly thing.
It is the weed called
Its flower is
Foul and fat.
By some called
‘Twill lay your
Garden flat.
Is a seed of stone...
As dead as