The Sower and The Seed
with random hope
all thoughts are strewn
like seeds on dodgy ground
not knowing which will float away
or root in glowing moon
each seed a glimmer
an inkling seen
some here, then swept away
tis up to us to watch them wane
or seize them...make them stay
and who knows just how well they’ll grow
once watered, fed, and dunged
another hapless, hopeless aim
or poetry become
We write...we muse...we juxtapose
we daren't dis or deign
but drink up all those
gifts from God
like soaking sensate rain
retelling only what we see
a mouthpiece only are
we pass along what is not ours
we cast it near and far
and should we stumble with our words
a misdirection sent
God will assure his words are heard
by souls as they were meant...
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Comments: 22
Thank you for sharing and submitting to
The Surreal Circus.
Featured on Gather’s Luminous Writers & Artists.
by souls as they were meant...
Powerful words, Stephen. Simply divine.
retelling only what we see
a mouthpiece only are
I really like this part.
Featured with grace in the The Surreal Circus.