As branches of a tree,
sprouting and spreading towards the sky,
so the heart of man
reaches for his dreams,
cultivating the leaf’s of ideas,
sending them aloft upon the wind.
They twist and twirl in constant change,
carrying the seeds of inventive thickets
to rise out of the brain
producing crops that yield so many different harvests.
The roots coming from the soil
entwining creations that both bless and curse.
How the irony snarls the quintessence,
beauty and ugliness rising in the sameness,
bearing harvests for what can be toxic and destructive
or others bringing forth the elegance of profound.
Nature in the soul unfolding in seasons,
ever transcending cycles of devastation and regeneration,
stepping stones towards the growth in clarity’s petals,
even though they are born out of the ashes
from weeds that sparked an inferno,
causing a transition to the forest
thriving within the mortal spirit.
Having to accept the fires of life
in order for there to come
renewal
that takes humanity
towards fields full of hybrids in enlightenment.
A contest entry
- Fresh As A Flower (No Prewrites) by HereComesTheSun.
450 points, ended October 26, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Incredible write
Yes, regretably having to 'accept the fires of life'
before 'renewal' 'to come' and growth of the spirit such 'irony snarls the quintessence'
how can 'beauty and ugliness' rise 'in the sameness' of that which is 'toxic and destructive'
Ever 'transending' and 'stepping stones towards growth'
This was staggeringly profound expounding a simple truth, 'born out of the ashes'
'enlightenment'
Incredible write
s Lib x x x
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great imagery and a great poem
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