seed artists

I

Hands deep in roiling soil
As hungry roots reach
Eager for our origins
We long backward
Fermenting

Folded inward
Corm maze secrets
In which we hide
Our needy sugar hunger
Germinating

We give no name
As seed sprout shoots
Only our thanks
Remembering our roots
Blossoming

II

Aye it’s true
I say to my brother
As she tilled her tithe
We needs must plow
What seems acres of shit
Planting oh so many seeds

Hope’s a healthy garden
Magic magnetic fields
Perhaps just perhaps
A towering vine or two
Scaling cloudspun skyward
We needs seem reach higher

Meh he said and hmm
Are you gonna talk all day
Or get to work
Don’t take too seriously
Whatever it is I say
So look who’s talking

Work this earth
Side by side by side
Linesman still on the line
Parallels meet only
When you look back
On the end of it all

III

This unknowing earth
These ignorant clods
Cracking there dry lines
Not all in neat ordered tiles
Across a seamy level plain
Edges give them their strength
Standing strong against horizon
And an ever oncoming sunset

The lesson of falling rain
Is wasted here as water
Taken in held let go
Passed like sweet tea
Through a hungry artist
Who hears tomorrow’s future
Yet tries to rule today
Courting every word

How dust sparkles in sunlight
As foolscap does by degrees
Dreamy ashes scatter to wind
Before the lovely corpse is cold
Our only inner vice isn’t listening
So hear we are with open arms
Fertile flower bed of fantasies
It’s not at all as we dreamed it to be