© 2019 Barbara Grace Lake
The tiller cuts into dark loam
Releasing pungent smells of earth
Creates an open breeding womb
For saplings, fertile seeds a bed
Inhaling all, I thrust my hands
Without regard to errant soil
Into wide furrows newly turned
Of robust dirt to blacken them
What will my grubby fingers grow
What crops can fields like this one fill
Will hatred thrive? I pray, no more.
Can kindness, love be nurtured still?
It all depends on what we plant
If we sow seeds of errancy
Our crops will shrivel die on vine
Our lives will shrivel die in sync
But can we find again the seeds
Of mercy, love and honesty
Our lives depend upon our will
To toss out evil, plant new hope.
What will we plant?
January 5, 2019 at 3:34 am
This is brilliant. I must share. May we “toss out evil and plant new hope.”
Just wonderful!
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January 5, 2019 at 3:37 am
Thank you so much for your words of encouragement. Like almost all poets, I am never sure how my work will be received.
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January 5, 2019 at 3:40 am
It is received as an eloquent way to express the truth. I hope you don’t mind but I shared it on my Facebook and twitter page. It’s everything that needs to be said but put in the most beautiful way.
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January 5, 2019 at 4:10 am
Very pretty Ms. Barbara, beautiful.
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January 5, 2019 at 6:51 am
such a beautiful poem with an important lesson!
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January 5, 2019 at 7:36 am
If we sow good soil in a fertile soil, good will grow because good returns as karma.
greetings
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January 5, 2019 at 8:07 pm
Beautifully expressed, Barbara. The question now remains: “But can we find again the seeds / Of mercy, love and honesty?” Only then, can we grow again as a nation.
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