Sunday, April 26, 2015

How The Flower of Spring Remains

April is National Poetry Month.  What better way to commemorate this event than with another poem.  Don't worry.  If you are not a poem fan, next week I will be posting something other than a poem.  This poem also follows the last poem that I wrote in theme.


How The Flower of Spring Remains

The tree had grown strong
Lived a long, full life
Provided shade
Provided beauty
Provided solace
The seed feel from the tree
Wanting to be like the tree
Strong and happy
Full of life
The wind carried the small seed
Along the Earth it flew
Carried past majestic mountains
Not wanting to land there
And mar the beauty
Past shorelines of an ocean
Deep, wild, savage strength
Not wanting to be swallowed by the intensity
The seed breezed on the wind further
Over fields of growth
Sustaining the world-weary travelers
The seed was not ready to settle
Among the crowd of many
Wanting to stand out on its own
The air gained strength through the storm
Carrying the seed faster than it wanted to go
Nothing to hold to
It tried to just follow the ride
Past large buildings of corporate vanity
Homes of quiet desperation
A storm was brewing
Clinging to air
The seed begged never let me go
Tempest was easier to hold onto than salvation
Time flew past
And the seed clung to flurry
Knowing the storm more intimately
Than the pardon of serenity
But now tired from the journey
The seed was losing its will
Finally feeling a great release
And the painful impact of the ground
Finding a small, empty space to rest
In a field of nondescript nature
The field was barren
A forgotten battlefield
Memories of pain and grief
Seeped into the Earth
This much anguish
Remains permanently etched
Onto the most beautiful, innocent of essences
Invisible scars that can not be erased
Just hidden
Like a layer of brick
Covers the broken of heart
Or the blanket of a harsh snow
Covers a vulnerable earth
Protecting itself from the elements
The seed settled into the land
Settled into the cold and rain
Waiting for the sunlight
Hibernating under a sunless sky
Pushing and pulling against time
Burying itself against the onslaught
Never leaving the warmth of passive protection
To face the indifference, the rage, the heartbreak of love
Just as the wind never stops blowing somewhere
Or the sun eventually fights the cloud
To shine the victor upon the land
The seed grew and
A flower emerged from the little seed
Weak but resilient
Around it the memories of ugliness
Trying to grow on a field of heartache
Battles never forgotten
Just learned from
Up from this Earth the flower grew taller
Seasons pass
Petals fall, returning again after rebuilding
There it sat alone and wanting
Reaching up in the day
To the big light in the sky
Offer a prayer of solace
From the loneliness, from the journey, from the pain
Surviving hunger, drought, floods, earthquakes, darkness and bleakness
Seeing one day
The clouds roll over the land
Dark and ominous
Full of anger and hate and self-protection
Soldiers arrived
Boots on the ground
Tramping and hunting
Seeing not beauty
Just the red of rage and indignant rightness
Each side facing off
Brother against brother
Expectation, anticipation
The malady of the ages
Like the quiet before a storm
The air too thick to breath
The heart too loud to heart
Like a gunshot marking a race
The world can change in a moment
Lonely ennui
Turns to trembling despair
Bright, radiant happiness
Shifts swiftly to abject defeat and heartbreak
Holding onto the wind once again
Looking for the strength to survive
Not just the battle but the war
Echoed memories of pain
Returning once again
Like a math problem that continues without an answer
Will this ever end?
The growing sameness of pain
Learning each time to maim and destroy
This time more casualties
This time more cracks and pieces removed
From the goodness of a heart
Is all that remains empty, blackness
Or like the seed
That fell onto a barren field
Full of memories of hatred, pain and grief
Will a flower grow
Cover the darkness
Hiding the vulnerability
As the flower is trampled
Bent trying not to break
Once the fighting is done
Will it again rise again from the ground?
How does a flower grow within the cracks of the land?
Nothing ever returns the same
The death of one moment may not be the end
The flower lying weakened and gasping on the ground
Buried against the indifference of a world
That did not see it
Invisible to the weak that shine with auspiciousnesses
It returns back to the ground
It returns home
Into the arms of the ground
Sleeping, weeping the blood red tears of pain
Just as the rebirth of Spring
Always follows the death of Winter
The flower emerges
From the desperation of memories
Its stem is stronger
Its leaves are fuller
And its strength more enforced
Against the nature of humanity
To prove is value over another
The wind can blow harsh
But it stands firm
Bending not breaking
It laughs without the purity of innocence
But the appreciation of breath
Purpose to the pain
Where understanding remains none
Your boots can trample over me
Your words can cut deep through me
Leaving me bleeding on the battlefield alone
But out of the pain
The flower still grows stronger
Through the wounds of my heart
This is how the flower of Spring grows
This is how the flower of Spring survives
This is how the flower of Spring remains
It grows in the wounds of pain
It hides the desperation of a heart
It does not concede defeated
It continues living each season
From seed to flower
Like a cycle of strength
Never to be undone.


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