The Seedling




Through the winter, sleeping darkly
Far beneath the sodden soil,
Waits a seedling, quietly sensing
When its sleep will turn to toil.

Gathering strength, straining, stretching
Reaching up with all its might;
Limbs awakening, stem unfurling,
Breaks the earth into the light.

Quickening now towards the sunlight
Feels the heat upon its skin;
Vigour growing, senses knowing
Life abounding, drinks it in.

Still the little shoot strains upward
Fronds burst free, a bud begins
To strive towards Apollo’s flame;
Feeds the growing life within.

Bud explodes into the daylight;
Flower opens, its life begun;
Standing proud, its lovely petals
Turn to face the warming sun.

Freespirit © 2005



  1. Thanks for the visit to my blog,Yes, looks like the election was a big mess .. and that was probably the intent from the outset !

  2. MM – nice poem thanks for that.
    Just been looking at your castle photos – brill – was pleased you included one of my favs – Bamburgh – brill isn\’t it?  Love that  pink sandstone.

  3. Seed reminds me of life.I once saw an article in which the author saw a seed without water could grow quicker than others .I wonder how it grows.I think the seed is like men,strong,firm and optimistic.

  4. hmmmmmm…… nice poem; thanks for today\’s visit, always interesting to read your comments. More GM Foods! what an appalling thought.
    I wish you a good week ahead.
    just me, Kate xxx

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