Seeds, asleep in deep winter dormancy, lie nascent with potential energy’s ‘why’,
wait in stillness within creation’s mystic mystery, preparing to germinate.
Yearning, like music’s subtle longing to be voiced, generates great synergy with sky
as spring’s muse stretches from slumber, awakening liberty’s craving to culminate.
Hidden seeds rupture open in secret to sprout and surge forth from the cave of earth’s dark womb,
ascending in patient quest of nourishing gold, to absorb brilliant illumination.
Those seeds, indeed, know naught of what it means to burst and bloom–
they simply obey the urges of their rumination.
Future blossoms stretch upward tracking light,
tenderly tracing winter’s fading face,
forming buds suffused with fragrant delight.
Birth rushes forth with the radiance of grace.
Like seeds, our hearts know not that we desire
evolution towards enlightenment’s pure goal.
Yet hints occur in moments that inspire
awareness of a light that’s truly whole.
Eventually, we tire of the toys
that keep us occupied within the dark.
We realize our thoughts’ distracting noise
will thwart our spirit’s silent sacred spark.
of brilliant bliss,
free of woes–
the sky to kiss…