A Seed — A Poem By Anirudh Iyer (#Poem23of100)

There was a tiny seed,
Much older than you,
Like a 1000 years older,
Known by only a few.

Grew slowly,
Under no threatening shade,
In rich soil,
In an open glade.

Many years later,
It dispersed its seeds,
Some fell into rivers,
Some were tangled in reeds.

But one special seed survived,
And grew into a tall tree,
For many years,
It lived free.

But men came along,
And harvested it,
By now on your parent’s lap,
You would’ve begun to sit.

The men used it to make paper,
And in it was written a story,
Blind to reality,
Blind to history.

Out of it was made a book,
That you just read,
And you thought it was finished,
Though nowhere it led.

If only you looked carefully enough,
Etched invisible in its fabric,
As you had wrongly wondered,
The seed hadn’t yet finished its magic.