Friday, November 1, 2013

and fruits hidden


i hid my soul in your heart like a seed
deposited in the dust on a cool evening
just before the sun had set closing
another date with his mate, the mother

earth, eager to see and benefit
from a fragrant flower and fleshy
fruits; though my soul barely soared
and like a seed scarcely saw light

water, or those nutrients, yet the stone
germinated eventually to be trampled
under foot growing as an unwanted plant
to be uprooted and replanted many times

dropping leaves, drooping almost to die
but continuing to exist with many bruises
inflicted carelessly, yet growing into a tree
surviving with scars and fruits hidden

henry victor     21.06.2002


 

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