Thursday, September 03, 2015

A Seed's Prayer

Many seeds were sown,
Grew in to beautiful plants and bushes and flowers,
          dropped new seeds.
New plants and bushes and flowers sprang forth,
          reaching to the sun.
I'm still in the ground,
Waiting to germinate,
     to grow,
          to be picked,
Every year
     more dirt thrown on top of me;
          deeper in to the ground I sink.
     Not noticed?
It's cold and dark.
     Am I slow to germinate,
          or am I dead?
Just be over with it already,
     and bury me
          six feet under.

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