The harvest
may not come from the seeds you plant inch by inch,
carefully counting the rows and spaces in between,
But rather,
from the seeds that fall out of your pocket
while you are running down the hill
to see the first plum blossoms of the year,
Or,
from the arugula that you forget about,
that grows old enough to make its own babies
with no help from human hands,
Or maybe,
from the clearing that you stumble upon in the Redwoods,
the Giants hold your aching heart in their branches,
and suddenly the candy cap mushrooms are flirting with you,
whispering, "take me home, I am a gift from Mother Earth".
Day 15 Poetry Challenge :: Find a tree, say hi, maybe give it a hug, and then sit underneath it and breath there for a few minutes, then write a poem.
P.S. I know that I'm falling behind on posting a poem every day...I am about to travel to India so I'm most likely not going to be able to post every day there, so I'll just post as frequently as I have wifi and computer access!