Wednesday, December 04, 2013

Bursting with Song

author’s note:

This poem seems an appropriate song, as we approach the Winter Solstice.


For so long, I've gestated
in this Winter seed
under a marvelous mess
of decayed leaves.

I must have grown
because I've begun to feel
way too constricted...

so though I still fear
the destruction
I've decided I should bloom
--and soon.

Yet, after all this time
I find I need more time
according to the laws of nature:

yes, the shell did crack a bit

then a little bit more, then a little bit more...

it still seems a far measure
from being broken open.

But though I remain muffled
I can sing--

I can sing about my desire to sprout.

I can sing of the waiting.
I can sing of the weight.

I can sing as many have sung before me many will sing after I'm done.

We sing to soothe our own sad selves

...we sing for your pleasure.

What a strange joy in our bursting song.

© 2013, Michael R. Patton
Glorious Tedious Transformation

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