There will come a time when the seed will sprout.
Related quotes
A Lonely Reminder...
because i am a seed
i sprout
i make the bud
and then
i flower facing the
sun
i grow and
i reach the apex
of time and i
know what follows
next is
the wilting of
my flowers
the rotting of
my roots
until i am gone
i know
i shall be back again
into nothing
the seed in me comes
again
i know
i know.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Dream Of Evolution....
shall a seed be
a seed forever?
do you not dream
someday that it shall
be planted
so that it can sprout
and grow
and then finally see
its flower
and fruit?
must the flower and fruit
be just the same
like the rest of the histories of
the other seeds
of their own form and kind?
must i hope
for an evolution
a seed turning
into a bee
a bee into
a butterfly into wind
into star?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Rose Bush's Life
have you ever seen a rose bush
grow over a period of time
well it gets bigger and
a lot more complected,
as it grows and expands
it starts as a seed
and with the right care and time
it develops into a bush
but with the wrong amount the bush is not heathy
and may die
that’s the same with a baby
we start as a egg in our mothers tummy
with the right amount of care and 9mounts
we sprout into the world
young, healthy and a able body baby
but if we are not taken care of properly then
we may not live
a rose bush sprouts many different roses
during it’s life time
as if they are sections of there life
generations
of there life time
our lives look and act
like a rose bush
also it starts with one seed
you
then we sprout up and
make our own lives
with a family and
that spouts other things off of us
husband, wife, kids, and grand kids
our lives are like a
rose bushes life
for a rose bushes
are our lives
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Bored Apple Seed............[Humor, i hope]
While sitting in our screen house I spit out one apple seed.
You'd think it would be grateful since from my mouth it had been freed.
But no, you ungrateful seed. Instead you turned and looked at me,
a frown upon your face, indeed!
You landed upon a white-painted floor plank, a few feet from the ground.
From there you saw trees and grass and bushes all around.
Perhaps you wished you had feet so you could find a spot, to sprout your stuff
instead of sitting idle, a seed without a pot.
[Or maybe you spied my bird feeders, stocked with sunflower and nyjer seed.
To them the titmice and chickadees, and goldfinches come to feed.
Could you possibly wish, if you could not sprout, to be eaten by a bird,
and vanish until the bird poops you out? ]
Where you landed it does not get wet, so you cannot reach the soil.
You look now so unhappy; I think your apple anger is about to boil.
I suppose the least I could do is give you a big kick, and knock
you off the flooring, onto fertile ground to grow into a stick.
[But I DIDN'T and now another week's gone by.]
I'm back, my little apple seed, and as I settle into my chair,
I notice a marked change in your appearance that last week wasn't there.
You no longer frown nor even look at me, sadness and anger are no longer shown,
but instead you're just a bored apple seed, like many other seeds I have known.
(Nov.2012)
poem by Bri Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
One's Soft Silver String!
The well is full
but it not overflows
a draining mechanism
Keeps it Leveled
the seed of the desert
stored inside the chest
sleep, does not germinate
but is ready to sprout
Awaits the the well leak!
lost love, bad memories
their defenses, pain
perfectly filed and labeled
with all sorts of excuses
The desert awaits for ruling
The body sick the killer mind
the lack of love for inhumanity
false kisses, false words
so kindly treasured by impunity
Await the excuses ending
Oh! So many waits and
i need a flood of water
One seed to sprout
before someone touch one's soft silver string
poem by Mirna Morgan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Beautiful Creation
It was yesterday,
I cannot walk straight
my body was bended
by too much cold of winter.
It was yesterday
when I worry my future
not knowing where to go
my heart was filled with sorrow.
Then I found
this little sprout in my garden
which, in no more time
will surely become
a beautiful flower
this....
little sprout
I found in my garden.
Oh, little sprout,
you have come just in time
reminding me that,
If I'd be strong to survive
the harsh season of my life
I, in this world, just like you
will also be
a beautiful creation
of the One who created.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Prosperous Immigrants..
never heard of giggling water,
never touch the tingling soil,
never breathe the whistling air,
hide between the rocks many decade.
well preserved, well nourished,
well protected, well kept,
I have life in me. I am a seed.
Waiting silently to sprout up.
An ambitious guy uses a spade,
I am released from the dark,
None can stop a life from growing,
I sprout up victoriously.
Hidden talents have to be identified,
When Ample opportunities are available,
Those who do not make use of it, may suffer,
but the life with real life in it, will prosper.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Observe
Observe closely
Every atom has
The power
Of creation.
Inside a seed
Is a sprout
And a crop
To reap.
Hidden in
Each seed
Is food
For all mankind.
A small
Sewing needle
Represents progress
Of civilization.
Structure
Reaching the sky
Has its foundation
In the ground.
Every ray
Of light is
A magical picture
Of seven colors.
Pain And suffering
Are sources
That lead to
Building experience.
Everywhere
You look
There's a wonder
And a surprise.
poem by Tirupathi Chandrupatla
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What Must Represent You
a stone for the protection
against the wind and sun,
numbness is not what you asked for
but it has always been there
and you get used
to what you are, just being there
and not being a witness to anything
anymore,
you could have stopped right there,
but beside you
is this seed, tomorrow a sprout
a leaf,
you begin to open the orifice of light
seeing clouds,
and then feeling a little rain,
the flood and then the dryness
you know the river
that runs back to regain time
the stone, the river, the bud
this time
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nearness fevours
A woman is a hard coated seed,
Needing moisture and heat to sprout.
A man alone extends them.
The one who has him near is fortunate.
23.11.2001, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Flower of Death
The life is all we have; the death is all we need
It sets in our souls as an unfertilized seed
We know it will root soon, and take over our mind
And its stalk will sprout and wind
Death will take blossom, and it shall never fade it shall stay bright
And oh it shall be a beautiful sight, as it holds its petals into the night
And the leaves shall spread as green as green can be
And if you look close you will see
It's roots shall grow deep in the pot of eternity, in the dirt of the mind
The flower shall shine, so magnificent so kind
It's pollen will fly, will sour
And wait at the front of someone's door
The sun of the next world shall shine and nurture, the rain shall fall
Thanks to that the vines shall grow, and overcome the wall
The minerals of the soul will strengthen the warmth shall grow
This process shall grow, like snow falls, fast at first then slow
For the life is all we have; the death is all we need
It sets in our souls as an unfertilized seed
We know it will root soon, and take over our minds
And its stalk will sprout and wind
For now the flower shall bloom
The darkness shall leave, take the gloom
It shall leave us and we shall follow in the light of what's to be
Only then, we shall see
The flower of forever
As it takes root, you use it as a lever
Lifting you to the flower
And now you shall not cower
For you know this will spread and the flower shall grow shall thrive
And then you will know you are truly alive
As it takes root in your soul, and it shall becomes the power
For this is the blossom, this is the flower
The life is all our have; the death is all we need
It sets in our souls as an unfertilized seed
We know it will root soon, and take over our mind
And its stalk will sprout and wind
Bethany Hill
(This poem is not supposed to make you contemplate death, and I would not like to have people think that it is. It is just meant to show you that you should not fear death yet you should not reach for it but to take it when it is meant to come. Thank you)
poem by Bethany Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Seed
A seed
A bird had swallowed
While in fruit,
Had fallen in some rocky land
As Bird-droppings,
And sprouted into
A lovely tree,
With massive trunk
And boughs with verdant leaves,
And luscious fruits
As birds built nests
And wayfarers had shade from scorching sun!
A seed
A farmer sowed
In fertile land,
Ploughed by oxen
And sweat of brow
’neath scorching sun,
Did sprout also:
But ceased to grow
And withered
As the rains had failed
That year!
Although in both the cases
Seeds seemed similar,
Why did the farmer’s toil
Didn’t fructify?
Perhaps,
The bird had gulped
The best of fruits with seed
That grew despite the rocky soil!
Perhaps, the farmer’s work
Remained by God
Unblessed!
Man’s selfishness
At times ruins his labor great!
The heart of man matters!
Each seed
That’s sowed on earth
Grows by Heaven’s decree!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Black Box, A Key And The Stinking Guest.
do you know how to live
inside
a black box?
tell me. Are you the
seed inside that black box,
you sprout?
and look for an
opening of light?
Helios, you love Helios.
Do you know
this God named Helios?
you are not
a bug, you do not move
like a cockroach
you stink a bit
and you are here beside me
i live inside this black box
for years
i am not a seed,
neither a tweed,
there is no need for you to know
it will not be significant
and i am not stinking like you
you wonder what is this
all about asking you
if you too live in here?
or who you are and why are you
here
inside this tinder black box
it is dark here and we are
talking, you can hear me
and smell me but
you shall not feel me
i am not alive.
i am the key.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Grow and grow
When a seed, a hen will peck,
When a sprout, a snail will nib,
When a plant, a goat will bite,
And when a tree, a woodcutter will fell.
I must grow and grow till I'm spared.
23.07.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Seed
In the spring
when the air has warmed.
I
planted a seed
a tiny seed.
I
along with my faith
to Mother Earth entrusted it.
I
hoped she would
nourish and coax the blossom
hidden within that seed so small.
To
spring forth in the summertime
with
its beauty its fragrance.
That all may behold and enjoy.
Until
autumn time
when back it returns
to a seed to sleep
to wait.
To be reborn.
poem by Kurt Hearth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Surely God causes the seed and the stone to sprout He brings forth the living from the dead, and He is the bringer forth of the dead from the living.
Nails At The Crucifixion Hammered Into Jesus' Heel
God pronounced relentless battle between Satan
and the woman's seed between your seed her seed Genesis 3: 15.
in life battle Satan would 'bruise him on the heel.'
nails at the crucifixion hammered into Jesus' heel
Satan bruises his heel
God so ordered it
the salvation of man
could only be brought
by the death of Christ
even the spiritual seed
of our blessed Lord
are often heel bruised
we suffer persecution
temptation from Satan
the promised seed suffers but no destructive blow
'When the fullness of the time came, God sent
forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the Law' Galatians 4: 4.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
God!
I never knew who is He/she/it?
Yet the love that rained and my heart was the field where someone sow Love seeds,
seed that sprout and bloomed,
Brushing aside weeds,
Purifying my thoughts and deeds!
Ah! never I worried to nourish plant of Love
or feed it with manure,
But too fast it became mature,
Now shines with glory and eyes become one to see His Grandeur,
No worry about gender,
only one
Only one true wonder!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Sower
The winds had hushed at last as by command;
The quiet sky above,
With its grey clouds spread oer the fallow land,
Sat brooding like a dove.
There was no motion in the air, no sound
Within the tree-tops stirred,
Save when some last leaf, fluttering to the ground,
Dropped like a wounded bird.
Or when the swart rooks in a gathering crowd
With clamorous noises wheeled,
Hovering awhile, then swooped with wrangling loud
Down to the stubbly field.
For now the big-thewed horses, toiling slow
In straining couples yoked,
Patiently dragged the plowshare to and fro
Till their wet haunches smoked.
Till the stiff acre, broken into clods,
Bruised by the harrow's tooth,
Lay lightly shaken, with its humid sods
Ranged into furrows smooth.
There looming lone, from rise to set of sun,
Without or pause or speed,
Solemnly striding by the furrows dun,
The sower sows the seed.
The sower sows the seed, which mouldering,
Deep coffined in the earth,
Is buried now, but with the future spring
Will quicken into birth.
Oh, poles of birth and death! Controlling Powers
Of human toil and need!
On this fair earth all men are surely sowers,
Surely all life is seed!
All life is seed, dropped in Time's yawning furrow,
Which with slow sprout and shoot,
In the revolving world's unfathomed morrow,
Will blossom and bear fruit.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet - God's Time Is Best
There is a time to play, a time to read;
There is a time to work, a time to rest;
There is a time to plough, a time to seed;
But when it is God's time, it is the best.
There is a time to laugh, a time to cry;
There is a time for self, a time for guest;
There is a time to stop, a time to try;
But when it is God's time, it is the best.
There is a time to eat, a time to bake;
There is a time to fly, a time to nest;
There is a time to break, a time to make;
But when it is God's time, it is the best.
There is a time to learn, a time to test;
But when it is God's time, it is the best.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!