Seed of Love

Love the Songs. They're not wrong;
Today. They're OK; In fact, great!
There's no hate. No need for glory.
Just tell my story or what moves us.

Perhaps a bus, from pretty maid;
Or what she said, that stopped my breath, a little death.
But later then, the breathing in, is sweeter still.
For I can feel, the Life flow in; to every part, even my heart.

Perhaps I'm whole, that lovely goal, that consumes me;
To be a tree with roots down deep,
For food to seep, into my stem. Alive my fem-
inine eye too. Male eye makes two.

Then up to branches, the nourishment chances,
To twist and turn. My love to burn, inside my chest,
To be my best. And then the leaves.
The green believes; in sunlight skies.

Just like my eyes, that light to see, to nourish me.
The gentle leaves, so often grieves, for weather's dew,
Dreams of water's blue. And when it's gone,
Leaves then turn brown, to fade and die, beneath the sky.

It makes me cry, and wonder why, the tree is I.
My hope for my, wholeness reunion. No more life shun.
I am like an acorn, or little wholeness born.
And hope that one day, horizon I can see.

But even if not, for whatever fate's got
In store for this me, even if not a tree;
I'm so grateful, that my plate is full
Of little wholeness seeds. Hope to follow their lead.

Whether tree to be,
Or in bird's baby's feed,
I am whole enough,
A whole seed of love.


Seed of Love
by Loveson G. Flower
6/20/97