POETRY
LIKE A SEED
Poetry stirs your heart and soul, leads you through life as if you are blind.
Like that seed, we evolved from the dirt without sin or strife
Poetry depicts where we’ve been and where we are and where we wind up.
Like a seed we blossom and chisel our way through life for the world and darkness, entertaining them like an old vaudeville show
Poetry moves up, down, vertically, and horizontally through our life and mind.
Poetry lets the ongoing seeker see whether you’re the dog you claim to be or in reality just a pup. Poetry tells a story like your omniscient author. Poetry can tell onlookers whether your personality and character are that of a prince or a pauper. Poetry, I believe, is a very strong tool to use in war and death. Poetry has survived atomic bombs. The poet died, but the poet’s pen is still here, even after the poet has taken his or her last breath. So hail to the poets. May their pens strike a mighty blow to their adversaries in their footprints from birth until death. So hail to the poet on the battlefield scribbling how he or she left this blessed world of ours. Like the game Monopoly—take a card— do you want to take a chance or live as if you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth and a community chest, until your last breath?
Like a seed planted for the first time in life
Like a seed we need water to grow
Like a seed— whatever type of seed you choose to be: vegetable, fruit or tree Don’t let the past hold you down emotionally, spiritually or physically There are invisible eyes watching you, so give life your best shot on your way to the mountaintop Like a seed, you and only you know where you came from where you are and where you are going Like a seed, you know what you are— a fruit or vegetable for other people to consume and feed off of, Or a tree standing tall, upright and strong, giving air to support life until the end of your run... Time to go—you are now paper, shredded and confused, money for people to support families and friends, dust and dirt from which life began. On the other side, you are what you reaped, good or evil, your life here has stopped, your tree has fallen, laid to rest. Do you live, or has your life completely stopped?
John A. Cooper John A. Cooper
SITUATIONS 39
