Drama of Life

seedling, drama of life
The seeds emerge naked from gray, rough soil.

Though most will perish as grist of earth’s scheme

their compost holds kernels of mealy toil,

micro teams, tiny mules carrying molecule dreams

to clothe tender roots, as nosy trichomes graze

close to death’s yield to suckle hungrily at her teat,

laboring forth to perhaps claim a parcel of grace

or settle for more modest, weedy informality.

This war marches on. The drama rolls fresh

with each rising and falling of seasonal flesh.

6 thoughts on “Drama of Life

  1. I like this one. Very interesting, the perspective of a seed. tiny mules carrying molecule dreams — marvelous. I like the way you kept a balanced life/death sense about this, unsentimental.

  2. Minerva- I hope the seeds you found here helped.

    moose- I love it when you stop by.

    yemanja – I’m there with you, dear, all the way.

  3. “In the shadow of a dying star
    the seeds of love were sown…”

    Thanks for the cuppa! Cherio, Mandi

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