Seeds Of Becoming

Upon this page

four fingers hold true

ruled by a thumb

that allow these words

to pass on through

spawned with a sword

now knowing

what it aims to do.

 

For a verse is drawn

packed with repentance

chapters colored

in a poem redemptive.

From the layer of life

this ink shall portray

all that is poignant

replenished by the purpose

along this golden way.

 

I look to my left

But to the right I see

A canvas wiped clean

no longer spilled

in the void of suffering.

Instead was a picture revered

rambled with a bit of rhythm

through a conscious stream

no longer smeared.

 

As the sword it drew about

a certain decorated scene

where by the river of dreams

stood a glowing tree

growing wild

– its limbs breaking free.

 

For the circle had come complete

and from a seed

planted becoming

flourished a weed

whispering goodness

from the roots within

came a hope for humanity.

 

That day I sat

standing in the sun

steady held by a warming wind.

Then came the push

and from its force I fell

fallen in a spin

until all that I see

from this kneeling knee

became as one

for my mind

it was no longer spun.

 

It was time

that what was to be

had begun.

BeLove © 2018


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