February 21, 2007

Seeds

By writesome

I had a little acorn
I planted in the ground
it will grow to be an oak tree
—standing tall without a sound.

I’ll likely never see it 
with this set of eyes
but the promise of the acorn
outlives the old and wise.

My faith will reunite us
in a space and time that’s right
and a little child will swing so high
from its branches every night.

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About writesome

I've been wanting to do this for a while. Now I can type instead of pen scratch in a journal. It's an experiment, but isn't life. I wish you joy and happiness. May life bless you and may you bless life. View all posts by writesome
This entry was posted on Wednesday, February 21st, 2007 at 2:52 am and posted in Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.

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