Me? A Poet? Nope.

[sleigh]

 A poem emerged last night -- something that doesn't happen to me often.  I'm sure I'll tinker with it more, but here's the current draft:

 

Seed

 

You hold the seed between your fingers

an encapsulated embryo holding

 a glimpse of hidden landscapes

and figures locked in shadow

 

You drop the seed into ground 

furrowed with memories

plowed with mingled tears and joys

enriched by the ghosts of every wooded path 

of every city street you’ve walked

of every person you’ve ever loved

or you’ve hated

or both

 

You water the seed with words 

ideas plucked from a dozen disparate books

from a hundred random conversations

from a thousand overheard snippets of phrases

 

You wait

until finally the fertile ground shivers

as a tentative wisp of pale green story wriggles free

to spread its leaves

basking in the Muse’s radiance

 

And you begin...