The Seed

A symbolic personification of the human life cycle with that of a tree, the trials and tribunals of an egoistic man aiming for the stars..

Do not blaspheme the bird for the place where it dropped the seed.
bloom where you are planted.
brown is the fallen branch
black are the rotting stumps
so very lucky is the tender green shoot
that it grew under the aegis of these
which through the rain and blazing sun
watched over the blessed thing


Flourish it did, in fine splendor
straight as an arrow,
to the stars and beyond did it seek
from its lowly tendrils
the fallen branch, the rotting stumps
looked on in tears of pride
at the beauty of life and God
in every sinew of the stalk
that now trembled with suppressed strength


Then one day when the red of the sky matched its fervor
the stalk thought its time had come
the branch implored to show restraint
the stump pleaded for more time
but when fire flows in the veins
and every bit of you strains with irrepressible energy
one knows more than all others
and steep did the stalk rise,
above the redwoods, the conifers and the pines
the sun at last shone in its face


The branch and the stump looked puny
their caution made the tree laugh
fear was such a sly adversary
you always have more of it
when you are past needing it
such was the day of the strangle-fig
the seed was now in high disdain
the strangle-fig was slowly taking root



The branch and the stump could not see
the slow death of which
the tree was now ignorant
its life blood was being sucked in red
the blackness was spreading upward
the shoot was grown too high
to see the loss of its origins
seldom is there a worse end
than one which you can not see



One day there was a downward glance
there was so much to remedy
the tree looked in disdain
at the thing that would be its end
and refused to mark out as its equal
with the simple confidence of futility
then one day the fear arrived
the sun was in the reeds by the lake
the air was full of malice
the birds were silent and cowering by the leaves
and the tree that once was a seed looked within
there was a blackness beyond redemption
nothing could describe the anguish in its silent cry
to the heavens did it keen
to the very stars that it had risen to meet
the day of reckoning had come to pass
and the core was eaten away in ignorance and piety



And thus ends the tale of the seed
which did bloom where it was planted
which was lovingly blossomed into life by two magical entities
that which rose to seek the stars and the sun
which was the tallest among the redwoods and the conifers
but the tree that was once a green shoot
forgot that the greatest weakness in life
was to not remember those who matter the most
and the strangle-fig did die with the tree which was once a shoot
since after all the blackness there is the white bliss of death
that the bird might have eaten the seed
were the things folklore is made up of.