O little flower, you sprung up so quickly.
O little seed, what outward beauty you have produced!
But inside your stem is rubble.
Inside your petals is deadening deceit.
For through your outward beauty you deceive many,
And few know the depravity of your soul.
O little flower! O little seed!
May death take you over if no Soil comes to save.
Where is your Rescuer? Where shall He,
Whose savor is sweet, come from?
Be sure that if the seed desires, He will be found
And the flower will live.
For His sweet savor will take root in the seed
And flourish in the flower.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
From the Seed Springs Forth the Flower
This is not actually a poem. It does not even qualify as blank verse. It is, however, my expression of the condition of my soul on February 13.
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1 comment:
technically poetry is a pretty fluid concept, so, to say something is not poetry perhaps belies the quality of the verse.
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