Earth Mother

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: December 22, 2018

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Submitted: December 22, 2018

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Strange, how seeds of fate are planted in my mind

I tried to stay clear of the crops

But I am lost in the mass

My hands touch the feathery plumage

As I try to rely on something, other than sight

What do my senses feel

Chopped and cropped and I would see the light

But there is beauty during the night

A strange fear that tantalizes and thrills me

I remember the days when the seedlings were insignificant

I disregarded the fact they’d rooted in my mind

And now those roots are anchored, growing thicker and faster

I have tried to master my emotions

But these notions rebirth at every spring

An eternal ring, much like a curse,

I cannot shake…

But there is too much at stake.


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