"M" PLANTSA Poem by MarkOnce, while attempting to persuade a former lover of what she needed to do to become un-stuck, this fable-like image popped to mind...
I found a pack of Magic Seeds,
Hidden 'neath a sheaf of reeds I picked those reeds up, and I flung 'em, Then picked those seeds up, and I brung 'em! Seeking, then, a patch, a plot Where magic Seeds could grow a lot, I came unto your heart and knocked But, Alas!, the door was locked! I cried, "I have some Magic Seeds Which fulfill your deepest needs!" Then at the peep, an eye appeared-- I saw at once, 'twas sore afeared! "If", I pled, "A Cup of Joy Is what you seek, then I'm your Boy!" Then clapped the Trap!, but I quailed not (For Seeds of Magic I have got!) Then inch by inch so shyly ope'd The barricade, as if you hoped To ascertain the Truth, (or not!) Of what it was I said I'd brought I gently sought for fingers fair (So long since they had felt the air!) Then placed within a quivering palm A single silver Seed; no qualm Had I, that you'd not know What you must do, where it must go! You timidly one button free'd But, trembling, glanced at me in need Of guidance, so I gently free'd Your fingers, and removed the Seed, And placed it just within the cleft Between your right breast, and your left And covering it with your own hand, I hoped you soon might understand: The Magic lies NOT in the Seed, But in your willingness to need! Then did that Seed commence its toil Of changing hard clay into Soil Nourished by your heart's own beat, Watered oft with your tears sweet, A tendril sought, and shortly found A purchase for to wind around, To skyward pull a Twig, a Leaf-- WAIT! What's that on your Face? BELIEF? Belief that what I've said is true? Believe the claims I've made to you? At last, you've wonderfully discerned, That to a Bush your Twig has turned! And perched atop that Bush now grows A Bud; you lift it lightly to your nose, And then, with bated breath, breathe deep Its aroma, in your heart to keep To ponder upon when you sleep, To wonder at, when thinking deep! Discovered, then, in Soil new-made (Where once your Soul was sore afraid!) Blooms now the Fruit of hidden Joy Which for too long, no Sun enjoyed! But now, because you plucked a Seed, Thus acknowledging your need, Because YOU finally ope'd the Door, Your self-imprisonment is o'er! Awake, my Love, from Torment's chain, And walk to me, to Life again! April 13, 2004 © 2009 MarkAuthor's Note
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25 Reviews Added on August 22, 2009 Last Updated on October 15, 2009 AuthorMarkLas Vegas, NVAboutWriting, for me, has always been the friend who brought out the best in me, and who would never argue with me, except when necessary to point out my many obvious inconsistancies. Writing and.. more..Writing
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