the garden of poets

This shell decays and falls away
to pop the pod into the wind,
carried low to finally sow
a seed to bleed where hope has thinned.

A spark awakes to burst the husk
and send forth roots and shoots,
to seek the sun and deeper flow,
the needs are nourished as suits.

The grains of sand that make a land
are parted for the reach
towards sun and sky and butterfly
to pollinate words what teach.

The leaves now form to shade the worm
that crawls for shadows cool.
The buds erupt to interrupt
the greening skin, colours of the fool.

Sending scent and sentiment
the flowers flow and their power
is more than their smell and hue
but as metaphors they now tower.

By time the sun grows cool and rare
and petals fall and falter
as kernels curl and fall to earth
as sacrifice to the altar.

And I shall be as such as these,
a moment in the motion
of life and light, of day and night,
of dust and crust emotion.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.