Precious Cargo

many of my writings are what I call my mind's eye.. not a story, yet not a poem... they are just ventures to another moment

With wings gliding

attempting to hold its course

through the turbulent winds,

it drops its prize

it had clutched in its' beak.

The small seed falls unbidden

into the muddy soil

soon buried as the storm grows.

It lays there dormant

waiting for what may be.

The grass sprouts shrouding it

protecting it as it shudders within.

Feelers project out of its

armor encasement.

Seeking what the soil 

offers it willingly.

Free of its encumberments

a tiny tendril shoots skyward.

Basking in the warmth of the morning sun

small arms extend outward stretching.

A single leaf unfurls 

like a butterfly's wings.

More and more join it 

in a celebration of song.

Stronger it becomes

in size and thickness.

The sun is its strength

the moon its slumber.

Rain caresses it

the bees share it.

The storm returns in earnest

thunder and lightening across the sky.

A flash and fire

and what was strong is now weak.

Coursing through

top to bottom in a burning streak.

As fire destroys 

a bird goes by

carrying its precious cargo

in the stormy sky.

Reviews

[MachinaWriter]

Wonderful imagery in this poem. It cast a close eye upon tiny details, as if you were holding a magnifying glass to a portion of the world and letting us see the finer things we miss with greater clarity. Great description throughout the whole piece. Thank you for this piece, it was a great read ^^

[GMHeft]

Thank you!! these are my favorite to write, I want you to see, feel and smell... to just be

[MachinaWriter]

They're definitely fun to do. I have a thing for writing narrative poetry, which is fun. I've done a few stories that are poems, as well as the one that's the story of my life, I have many fictional ones too. I even did one that's a poetic recreation of the movie Titanic. Well, part of the movie lol