The ground opens up
soft and rich, the black earth
blankets the future.
There is a cold settling in,
the great grey sky offers a little drop of rain.
The great Flood started with one drop
the ground drank up all the tears.
Dust to dust...
Dust to dust...
There is the blanket
of sweet sleep,
the hibernation of old soul
that lives dormant waiting
for another Spring...
the great and final thaw.
1 comment:
I suspect this may be two poems rather than one or at least two sections. The idea of the earth blanketing the future, I presume you mean a seed here, against the winter is a good image to start with but then you shoot off a completely different way with the flood.
I'm thinking you might divide the two thoughts into two sections and maybe even develop each a bit more. Thanks for this.
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