All transpires dream-like
beneath the land sleeping
spirits seeds planted
by tired hands or thrust
into the dark cocooning soil
by cold machines and weeds
perhaps plucked by beaks
or bills transported
through tumbling clouds
and rushing winds dropped
into luminous air falling finding
purchase there on willing earth
waiting artlessly scattered
on hand-turned beds arranged
in mile-long rows and warmed
by an incubating sun fed by rain
and thick inspiring fog
never knowing under what skies
they grow or wither but sleeping
silently now beneath the land
where all dream-like transpires
(c) 2018, by Hannah Six
Image: 12019/Pixabay
No comments:
Post a Comment