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
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Related quotes
What if it rains?
A farmer sows the seed
Even if he doesn't know whether it will rain or not
He waits for the rain,
Patiently hoping that the clouds will come
That the rain will come
What if it doesn't rain?
It is painful to wait for the dark without clouds
You never know whether you should continue waiting or not
As the dark approaches without the cloud,
You can't help but ask yourself one question,
What if it doesn't rain?
What if it rains?
What if the seed becomes a tree?
What if the fruit grows and the birds build nests
What if the cooing of doves is heard in the land?
The dark is without clouds
But the farmer continues waiting
Hoping it will rain
If it does not rain
The seed will eventually die but the farmer will not
poem by Philani Zincume
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Sonnet: The Farmer
The farmer gazes at the sky for signs,
If rain could come within the next few days!
The summer sun continuously still strains;
‘To sow the seed, the rain must come, ’ he prays.
His field is ploughed and ready for sowing;
The seed was sowed and seedlings too are born;
The rain must come in time for their growing;
The cloudless sky fills up his heart with scorn.
But suddenly, from sky the lightning strikes!
And thunder comes followed by heavy rain;
The farmer shouts with joy like o’er a mike;
Aft’r all, God saved his crops this year again.
Let Heaven tell us when to do some things;
Let joy profound, then reign ’midst all earthlings!
poem by John Celes
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Seed, Qou Vadis?
seed falling on the ground
brought by a night bird
wet by the rain of dusk
you have no choice
but to crack your hard covering
and then grow
some roots and leaves
in time's blessing
some flowers
then fruits
then the silence of the wilting
follows
to be back into a seed again
eaten by this night bird
and thrown back
to a distant soil
seed,
you must begin
your cycle again
for what choice do you have?
the night bird does not
even know
and the soil simply receives you
and the rain of the dusk
simply wets you
and they do not even know
what & why
they are doing all these
this is the cycle
of the seed of life
and wilting and death
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
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Above From The Deep
Above from the deep
Taller than the sky wall
We shall pluck the sun
Embracing all shines in our arm
Bring it back into the ground
Brightening dark deep down
A Light for our dreams to grow
Above from the deep
Let the shine in their eyes staring
Upon me holding something
In my hand without a thing
Because only my eyes knowing
The existence of what i am holding
The invisible dream that i dream
Own my heart as whole
Forever it will be placed in my hand
Coated with my every strength
With all trust i lay in this palm
For invisible dream to survive
Just like a farmer without a land
Only in my heart for seeds to grow
Waiting for wake up from long sleep
In a while we witnessing the flowing wind
Moving with the time, roll the clock wheels
Then we watching days changing to years
Observing the hopeless grass grow taller
The shine in their eyes intriguing
Of my invisible seed surfaced by the dust
Layers of ashes bury it deeper from above
In my hand, i still holding, i still believing
The strength and trust i keep holding
For a small wish one day will growing
Above from the deep
Fertilizing with trial and error
Usual watering without surrender
Above from the deep
Raising hand from below
The green hopes finally crawling out
In ambient of different calling to wake up
Above from the deep
The sun still waiting for this new born
Touch them up to reach higher as they can go
Higher and taller above
Above from this deep
I just like a farmer without a land
But seeding dreams without discriminating
Of which seeds I should choose and growing
To pick only the best one to grow, No oh No
As my heart says grow all, their potential we don't hold
So i will grow all without discriminating
Even I am only a farmer without a land
One sweet day i smell something sweet
From a garden of my soul
The growing plant i seed once
with tears and hardness i witnessed
Harvest from sweet sacrifice
Turn for joy and happiness
For reality now in same line
Side by side walk with me
Above from this deep
Sweat and tears dropp to my feet
I smell the existence of my ripen dream fruit
Yet if i grow all dreams i shall have many
Of diverse tastes and colorful flowers
So i told the seed and land, my heart of no land farmer
Believe your self to go above, get brighter
Even you cant, don't go deeper, it's darker
So take care of what you dream
Just matter of time to tell you when
For one day it will go above
Higher, reaching from this deep
Above from this deep
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : About this poem: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
This is a poem that i write for one of my friend here, that finally
found the strength after many times feel down for uncertainty time
I'm so proud to see how great smile can bounce back to that innocent heart.I know we dream many things in our life, sometimes we can reach sometimes we cant but never abandon what we have start, seed them with try...maybe for others our dream is a small but in our eyes that is what we wanted for, so chase what you want to do...we may not have it now, seed takes years to grow as a strong tree, some even to sprout takes years to get favorable condition....I never agree
for whom said, pick the best seed or seedling...sometimes the weaker one could be stronger and better, it changes through time, like our life we become better..we learn to survive, so give any chance to anyone and dream to grow and proves as what they really are...and for a dream we dream we will enjoy a fruit imagine if we dream of different, we may have many types of fruits/flower just if we seed and care them....but dream without try and care it is hopeless...
It's a dream in a dream...For my friend who knows that this is for you, you have fallen many times, cry deeply and now i am glad you find a shineSo go my dear friend, for everyone Go above from the deep...you will smile, For all..LOve_Unwritten Soul
poem by Unwritten Soul
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The Little Tree
A very faithful farmer,
Planted a small seed,
Where in a distant field,
It grew into a tree.
This tree had leaves of laughter,
As it rustled in the wind,
Its sound of many whispers,
Were voices of many friends.
Its branches were far reaching,
Its limbs, like little hands,
That touched the lives of many,
As it grew upon the land.
Its flowers bloomed in sunshine,
-They were countless little smiles,
That offered joy to others,
If but only for a while.
For the Farmer who was helping,
His little tree grow tall,
Knew of a better orchard,
The best one of them all.
Se he placed His hands around the tree,
And lifted it with care,
He took it to an orchard,
Where He himself was near.
The tree had all the sunshine,
Its leaves were there to stay,
Its flowers bloomed in happiness,
Every single day.
The Farmer loved the little tree,
Far more than people knew,
Now it lives forever,
In our hearts and Heaven too.
-In loving memory of Charles McMichael
poem by Jean Penner
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Sonnet – Don’t Be
Don't be the fallen leaves, so young and green;
Don't be the buds that never can flower;
Don't be the twigs that always remain lean;
Don't be the flow'rs that dropp with each shower.
Don't be the branches growing very long;
Don't be the tree that never blooms at all;
Don’t be the nests that disallow Bird-song;
Don't be the fruits that hit the Earth by Fall.
Don't be the trunk hollowed by Birds, white-Ants;
Don't be the crown that can't get Sun or Rain;
Don't be the tree that grows not straight but slants;
Don't be the roots that prop the tree in vain.
Don't be the tree that grows on marshy-land;
Just be a tree secure in Maker's Hand.
poem by John Celes
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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
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If Only I Were a Bird
If only I were a bird,
my days would be forever happy
Chirp from tree to tree
And live worry-free.
If only I were a bird,
I would fly from
Cyprus to Chile
and have a tour on earth.
If only I were a bird,
I would dropp fruit seeds
Hoping a fruit tree will grow
For other birds to take shade.
If only I were a bird
I won't be
worrying about work
Bills, car, or clothes
poem by Champs Ulysses Cabinatan
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Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. Matthew (Chapter 13)
Out of the house, then Jesus went
That day, and by the sea, sat down;
Large crowds had gathered around Him
So, sat He in a boat off-shore,
While crowds were standing on the shore.
He spoke in detailed parables:
‘A sower, went to sow, one day,
Some seeds fell on the path, he walked
And birds ate them up, all at once.’
‘Some fell on rocky ground without
Soil adequate and sprouted but,
The soil wasn’t deep and sun that rose
Had scorched while it withered, rootless.’
‘Some seeds had fallen amidst thorns,
And with the passing of the morns,
The faster growing thorns choked them,
And there remained, just stubs of stem! ’
‘Just some seeds fell on soil-rich ground;
They grew so well and it was found
That they produced fruits many-fold
A hundred / sixty / thirty-fold! ’
‘Those who have ears, then ought to hear! ’
His disciples then questioned Him,
‘Why speak to them in parables? ’
And Jesus told them, in reply:
The kingdom’s knowledge. mystery
To you, has been by God granted,
And not to others by the Lord.’
‘To one who has, given is more;
And richer will he always grow;
From those that have a little then,
Ev’n that will be away taken.’
‘In parables, I speak, that’s why
Because they look but cannot pry
They hear but don’t to them pay heed
Nor do they understand the need.’
Isaiah’s prophecy’s fulfilled;
Though you hear, you understand not.
Indeed they look but dot see.’
‘The hearts of people are so gross,
They hear and yet have hearing-loss;
They’ve closed their eyes, lest they may see,
Their deafened ears have turned stony,
Nor do they understand by heart,
To be by God’s word, a convert;
I heal them all as it’s my part.’
‘Blessed are your eyes because they see
And ears because they hear surely’
Amen, I say to you this day:
So many prophets and righteous
Had longed to see but saw just less,
And did not see or hear quite well
The things you hear and that I tell.’
Then hear the sower’s parable:
‘The seed that’s sown on path is one
Who hears the Word of God and yet,
Does not truly understand it;
The evil one then comes and steals
Away what’s sown within his heart.’
‘The seed on rocky ground is one
Who hears the word at once with joy
But this lasts only for sometime
When persecution, trials come
He tends to fall away from God.’
‘The seed that falls amongst the thorns
Is one who hears the word but then
The lure of worldly lucre choke
And therefore, it can bear no fruit.’
‘The seed that’s sown on soil that’s rich
Is one who hears and understands
And therefore bears fruit manyfold
Depending on each one’s effort.’
He told another parable:
‘Heaven’s kingdom is like a man
In his own field, who sowed good seed;
At night, his enemy sowed weed.
Amongst the wheat and disappeared;
The good crop grew and bore good fruit;
The weeds also grew very well;
His slaves then came and asked landlord,
‘Didn’t you sow good seed in your field?
How did the weeds happen to come? ’
He replied, ’’Tis enemy’s work.’
His slaves then asked the master then,
‘Should we now go, pull out the weeds? ’
The master said, ‘No, if you do,
The wheat could be uprooted too.
Let’s allow both for now to grow
At harvest time, I’ll give orders
To pull out weeds and make bundles;
And burn them until they turn ash,
Then gather wheat and store in barn.’
He told another parable:
‘The kingdom of Heaven is like
A mustard-seed, a person sowed
In a field though, the smallest seed;
When fully grown, it’s a large bush
And birds build nests on its branches.’
He spoke another parable:
‘The kingdom of heaven’s like yeast,
When mixed with much of wheat flour,
It leavens the entire dough.’
Jesus spoke just in parables,
To fulfill what the prophet said:
‘I’ll open mouth in parables;
I will announce what lies hidden
From foundation of this great world.’
When crowds left, Jesus returned home.
His disciples requested Him
To explain parable, He’d said,
That of the weeds, inside the field.
‘He who sows good seed,
Is the Son of Man;
The field’s the world of men;
Good seed are children of kingdom;
Bad seed are children of Satan;
The enemy, devil;
The harvest, end of age;
Harvesters are angels.
‘Just as how weeds are burned
So, at the end of age
The Son of Man will send
His Angels to gather
All evil-doers and
Those causing others, sin.
They’ll be thrown in furnace
Of fire eternal,
With wailing, teeth-grinding;
The righteous shine like sun,
In their Father’s Kingdom! ’
‘Whoev’r has ears, then ought to hear:
‘Heaven ‘s kingdom’s akin treasure,
A person finds buried in field;
He hides it back with joy again
And sells all that he has, to buy
The field with hidden treasure soon.’
‘Heaven’s Kingdom’s like a merchant,
Who goes in search of costly pearls;
And finding just one priceless one,
He sells all that he possesses,
And buys the invaluable pearl! ’
‘Heaven’s Kingdom’s like a net,
That’s thrown into the sea and wet,
To collect fish of every kind.
When full, the net is hauled ashore;
Good ones are isolated there;
The bad fishes are thrown away.’
‘At end of age, ’twill be like-wise
The angels will go separate
The wicked from the righteous ones
And throw them in Fiery Furnace
Where wailing and grinding of teeth
Occur in manner incessant.’
‘Do you then understand? ’ He asked
And all of them well answered, ‘Yes! ’
Then Jesus said, ‘Each instructed
Scribe in Heaven’s Kingdom is like
A head who brings from his household,
And store-room, both the new and old! ’
When Jesus finished parables,
He went away to His place then.
He reached His native place and taught
The people in their synagogue.
They were so astonished and asked,
‘From where did this man get wisdom
And how does He do mighty deeds? ’
‘Isn’t he the carpenter’s son?
Is not His mother Mary called?
Are not His brothers Joseph, James
Simon, Judas and sisters too?
From where does this man get all this? ’
They took offence at Jesus then.
‘A prophet’s not without honor
Except in his house / native place.’
Because of lack of faith in Him,
He didn’t do mighty deeds more there.
(6-2-2007)
poem by John Celes
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The Seed And The Tree
Who can say for sure as to what came first: the seed or the tree?
If the seed came first where did it come from if not from the tree?
But then if the tree came first where did it come from except from a seed!
So then you'll have to re-ask again that question of the origin of the seed.
An endless circle with no logical conclusion soon appears
until one looks beyond the seed and the tree that it bears.
Although the seed comes from the tree and the tree from the seed
each one grows in the ground of mother Earth which both does feed.
The Earth is the womb of everything living and supports all we know
and then becomes the tomb back into which all forms one day must go.
The underlying essence of all nature is of consciousness-energy-intelligence
that includes and sustains all things despite our ever incessant belligerence.
Has anyone ever heard it said that God is in the form of the world
and so all within it carries a divine spark from which it has swirled.
God is the infinite eternal seed of all existence and can be experienced like this:
usually as an overwhelming love within us and as all power, knowledge and bliss.
So the seed and tree came from the Earth which itself has come from and exists in God
and to enquire where God has come from is useless if we haven't transcended this sod.
The limited mind of man has to merge into that unlimited universal mind of the Creator
only then can we know the original cause or final end of everything and of their Maker.
---------------------
Note:
This should remind one of the other similar paradox being that of 'the chicken and the egg'.
poem by George Krokos
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That Is Perhaps What Poetry Is All About
a seed thrown on the ground
beside a bush, it grows and you do not notice.
it is sad to say, neglect does not bother.
time is its ally, and it begins to feel its roots
and leaves.it dreams of fruits.
the seed is now a tree, and it summons children
to play, to climb its branches and to reap its fruits.
that is its only joy. To give.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Seed
The wind carried the seed
Into the air to who knows where
Across the weeds, floated the seed
Until to rest on the earth, which laid bare.
And then cried the seed upon the rise
Someday I, I will be a tree,
Liken my brothers, who will be like me
And I will grow to touch the sky.
The seed again journeyed upon the wind
Over the grass and wooded paths
Above the trees, cousins to him
Past the flowers who were his friends.
While he dreamed someday; he too would have many limbs.
The seed finally lighted upon the ground
From where he chose, so his mighty roots would grow
God will water me and give me light, he cried
He will also destroy my enemies and help me rise,
But then arrived a bird, who ate the seed.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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The Seed in the Womb- Baby Alive!
There is a dormant life, unseen,
In every seed!
When sowed in soil that’s wet,
Under the bright rays of the sun,
It sprouts into a seedling,
With overt life!
It grows into a sapling-
A miniature plant,
Which grows into a plant or tree,
Laden with flowers, fruits and seeds,
And happy are both,
God and mankind.
Do farmers destroy seeds?
Do they destroy sprouted seeds?
Do they pull off seedlings?
Do they remove saplings?
And all have life,
From Creator!
There is an innate life, unseen
In each zygote!
On nidation in womb,
Under the loving care of God,
It grows, becoming embryo:
With overt life!
Which grows into a fetus-
Miniature human being!
Bubbling with life;
And grows into a human babe,
That should be born,
To grow into an adult (male/ female) ,
Who can now have, children,
Maintaining human race,
And happy are both,
God and mankind!
Should one destroy zygotes?
Should one destroy embryos? (Abortion)
Should one murder the fetus? (Feticide, Abortion))
Should one kill the babe, unborn? (Infanticide)
And all have life,
From Creator!
Life is life- plant or beast!
Life is life- in seed or ovum / sperm!
Life is life- small or big!
Life is life- in utero or ex!
Life is life- unborn or born!
Life is life- child or adult!
Would anyone sane destroy
A growing plant?
Would anyone sane cut down
A little tree?
Does any woman have the right
To abort her child?
Can any man or woman
Murder own child?
‘God gives the ‘seed’ life in the womb,
None dare take this out, except Him.
God makes the seed grow in the womb;
No one dare turn the womb, a tomb!
Abortion is murder, most foul
Of a baby in the womb! ’
‘THOU SHALT NOT KILL- saith the Lord.’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-29-2008
poem by John Celes
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From The Same Tree
From the same tree
there is the good fruit
there is the bad fruit....
From the same tree
the good fruit goes to the market
the bad fruit...to the soil.
From the same tree
is the reason for the lonely farmer
to wake up each morning
to see how the fruits grow well...
and is the reason for the lonely farmer
for not winning the heart of his beloved
who prefer the city life
From the same tree
there is the good fruit
there is the bad fruit.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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A Seeds A Star/tree Medley
Were a people black as is your night
Born to spread ammas eternal light
Which since time began
Has been to bring truth to every man
Our ancestors have since long ago
Passed their wisdom down so we to know
For here lies the key
That will help unfold the mistery
A seeds a star
A seeds a stars a seed
A stars a seed
A stars a seeds a star
In myself I do contain
The elements of sun and rain
First a seed with roots that swell
I gradually burst through my shell
Pushing down into the ground
The root of me is homeward bound
A trunk, a leaf and there I am
A miracle of least by far
Tree - you are the longest living one we know
The largest of all plants and still you grow
Tree - within your branches theres such history
So much of what were searching for to know
Every fifty years we celebrate
Po tolo, our star, as it rotates
Though infinitely small
It is still the heaviest of them all
(background)
A seeds a star
A seeds a stars a seed
A stars a seed
A stars a seeds a star
A seeds a star
A seeds a stars a seed
A stars a seed
A stars a seeds a star
(background-simultaneous)
Ye lolo de ye
Lolo ye kesse de ye
Kesse ye lolo de ye
Lolo ye kesse de ye
Kesse ye lolo de ye
Lolo ye kesse de ye
Kesse ye lolo de ye
Lolo ye kesse de ye
And some believe antennas are their leaves
That spans beyond our galaxy
Theyve been, they are and probably will be
Who are the mediocrity
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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For Yani
i see the seed inside you
and day by day it grows
into a tree both with flowers
and fruits and soon the birds
shall find your branches and
shall make nests on your twigs
and soon there will be eggs
and fledglings and soon
there will be children climbing
your treetops
and laughing and playing
under your shade
there will be travelers taking
rest on your roots placing
their spines against your trunk
only if you keep on writing
for art's sake, for yourself.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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GOD The Farmer
(4/14/12)
We live to love - we love to live
There is so much we have to give.
For every seed that GOD has planted
Another life has been granted.
Every seed on this earth
Will create a brand new birth.
He is the farmer - the giver of life
The crops he plants will suffice.
He planted the stars that shine at night
Gave us the sun - hot and bright.
He gave us water to quench our thirst
And gave us this water to cleanse the earth.
He planted seeds of knowledge in our brains
So if we had to - we could make the change.
He planted the seeds in the female wombs
So that life would not end to soon.
These are some of the things this farmer has given
He has made this life worth living.
poem by Louis Rams
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The virtuous fertilizer
You fertile the soil
And the tree grows well.
Fruits ripe and smell
The wingless unkind human birds in thrill.
They taste the fruits and saliva spill
Afterward throw the seeds ill will.
And the human dignity go through the mill.
* If this rare bird could fly?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Explore your potential and earn the heart of the world
Village mud road
Afternoon and the hot sun
A buffalo in its own slow pace
On its back a half naked boy
Sweat droplets twinkling
Seated and enjoying a mango
Making all efforts to extract
The entire flesh upto the seed
A clean and white seed
Now in his hand
Aiming to hit a crow
Sitting on a milestone
Innocently glancing left and right
Threw the seed at his full speed
Thank God, the crow flew unhurt
The seed finding its way
To a mud-ridden drain
With its drowning deep
Bubbles appearing
Pronouncing the end of
A mango fruit
But it was only a beginning
The seed fighting all odds
Sprouted establishing
In the stinking waste water drain
Growing steadily
To a sapling first
Then to a big tree
Now standing tall
With branches in all directions
Bearing sweet fruits
Now being exported and
Earning foreign exchange
Apparently a useless seed
Had this potential
Which when rightly exploited
Earned global recognition
Explore your potential and
Earn the heart of the world
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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