POETRY

Seed Moon

Photo by Nikhil Kumar on Unsplash

April 2020

It is the seed moon,
the time of sowing.
The roads and skies
have grown quiet.
Sometimes in the stillness
I can feel the earth dreaming.

There are many things I can’t do
in these strange times.
But I can plant seeds.
I hold them like prayers
in the palm of my hand,
I notice their shape and size,
the way they catch the light.
Their impossible promise.
I teach my children
to make wishes on them —
and I make wishes too.

Bring nectar,
food and medicine.
Praise the sun.
Bless the wild places
and the creatures
and all those yet to come.

May this new day
be a seed itself
for the beautiful future
which wants and waits
to be born.

I think anyone who says
that miracles aren’t possible
must not have planted seeds.

Thank you for reading! 💗