Related quotes: THROUGH many days and many...

The Magic Flower

THROUGH many days and many days
The seed of love lay hidden close;
We walked the dusty tiresome ways
Where never a leaf or blossom grows.
And in the darkness, all the while,
The little seed its heart uncurled,
And we by many a weary mile
Travelled towards it, round the world.

To the hid centre of the maze
At last we came, and there we found--
O happy day, O day of days!
--Twin seed-leaves breaking holy ground.
We dropped life's joys, a garnered sheaf,
And spell-bound watched, still hour by hour,
Magic on magic, leaf by leaf,
The unfolding of our love's white flower.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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A Dead Leaf

between these two shores
i float like a dead leaf
am not dead either..
if i was i will not feel the pain

budded flowered and became a fruit
on one shore
eaten and as a bare stray seed laid
at the other shore

as a seed i did germinate
the mother root grew into a tree
an off spring flower and fruit came by
all along as a seed i thought i was the tree itself

I NEVER THOUGHT I WILL LOOSE
MY IDENTITY AS A SEED
CAN A TREE SHOW ITS SEED
EVEN IF IT WANTS TO

ALL ALONG...

I thought i was the tree itself
may be i was a part of each part
the stem to hold, the leaf to nourish
till fate wind blew me down as a dead leaf

today as a dead leaf i float
wanting a living from one shore
wanting relationship from the other
as a dead leaf i float..am not dead with pain

ALL ALONG....
I DID THINK I WAS THE TREE ITSELF
BEING JUST A SEED

poem by Samanyan Lakshminarayanan
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Another Leaf.....

another leaf

another year
another seed to plant
another tree to grow

there will be no hiding from now on
there will be more
confrontations

no one to trust
everyone is a suspect

love of self
nothing greater than this

another leaf
of the book to turn to
another page
to write on the journal

tomorrow is my day
my own unique beginning

you were all disappointments
my food came to the wrong mouths

there is no wishing for death
for me or for anyone

there is more use to reason now
rather than the flings of the heart

another sun for me
another new moon

my shadows follow me
and not otherwise

another leaf
without a worm

another glistening leaf
dew forgiven.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Garden

There is a fenceless garden overgrown
With buds and blossoms and all sorts of leaves;
And once, among the roses and the sheaves,
The Gardener and I were there alone.
He led me to the plot where I had thrown
The fennel of my days on wasted ground,
And in that riot of sad weeds I found
The fruitage of a life that was my own.

My life! Ah, yes, there was my life, indeed!
And there were all the lives of humankind;
And they were like a book that I could read,
Whose every leaf, miraculously signed,
Outrolled itself from Thought’s eternal seed.
Love-rooted in God’s garden of the mind.

poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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You

From eyes I will read.
Don’t say, what you say
but remain you.

Dismantle the tower,
go for a walk,
when the moon climbs on dew.

Seed by seed
we went mad
leaf by leaf I held you.

Sit on the bank
wash your feet,
rock by rock pain were you.

Stars will go
sun will rise.
At the dawn, I want you.

Sins were many
birds were few.
In twilight zone
a cuckoo flew.

poem by Satish Verma
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A Leaf

to a non-poet a leaf is just a leaf
and when it falls
on the ground, there is nothing but a
fall

but to us who claim this art
a leaf is not just a leaf
but it can be you or i
falling and when i reach the ground
you feel the heart of the leaf
beating

for its falling, its failure as a leaf,
its surrender to a certain death
its claiming a portion of this earth
to rest and be part of this
world, it rots, and it speaks some line
before it rots

a poem, a valediction on an anthill,
an eulogy of the other leaves that
fell before the great falling

it can be a story of humanity written
on the lines of its face, it will have flesh
on its layers, some mouths on its
seams, and it will tell too

about the tree where it comes from
how the clouds drifted so close to its stalk
how the sun kissed it on top of everything

a leaf is a world. just as a poem is.
we live inside it. Through it. Even
outside it. Even in circles.

we make understanding so complicated.
yet we are so simple as you see us.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Autumn Song

Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the heart feels a languid grief
Laid on it for a covering,
And how sleep seems a goodly thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?

And how the swift beat of the brain
Falters because it is in vain,
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf
Knowest thou not? and how the chief
Of joys seems--not to suffer pain?

Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the soul feels like a dried sheaf
Bound up at length for harvesting,
And how death seems a comely thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?

poem by Dante Alighieri
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Life is Like A Flower

Life is like a flower.
It starts out as a seed,
Then a root,
A stem with a leaf,
Leaves and then a beautiful flower.

A baby.
Then learns how 2 talk,
Then the child is a flower.

Life is like a flower,
You are a flower

poem by LeLe Gallon
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Autumn Song

Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the heart feels a languid grief
Laid on it for a covering,
And how sleep seems a goodly thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?

And how the swift beat of the brain
Falters because it is in vain,
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf
Knowest thou not? and how the chief
Of joys seems—not to suffer pain?

Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the soul feels like a dried sheaf
Bound up at length for harvesting,
And how death seems a comely thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?

poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1883)
Submitted by anonym
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Inside The Guts

there are things of course
better not said at all,
like the way the seed grows
its own first leaf
it's first view of the sun
it's first decision
to be the beautiful flower
and fruit that
it is.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Genesis

In the outer world that was before this earth,
That was before all shape or space was born,
Before the blind first hour of time had birth,
Before night knew the moonlight or the morn;

Yea, before any world had any light,
Or anything called God or man drew breath,
Slowly the strong sides of the heaving night
Moved, and brought forth the strength of life and death.

And the sad shapeless horror increate
That was all things and one thing, without fruit,
Limit, or law; where love was none, nor hate,
Where no leaf came to blossom from no root;

The very darkness that time knew not of,
Nor God laid hand on, nor was man found there,
Ceased, and was cloven in several shapes; above
Light, and night under, and fire, earth, water, and air.

Sunbeams and starbeams, and all coloured things,
All forms and all similitudes began;
And death, the shadow cast by life's wide wings,
And God, the shade cast by the soul of man.

Then between shadow and substance, night and light,
Then between birth and death, and deeds and days,
The illimitable embrace and the amorous fight
That of itself begets, bears, rears, and slays,

The immortal war of mortal things that is
Labour and life and growth and good and ill,
The mild antiphonies that melt and kiss,
The violent symphonies that meet and kill,

All nature of all things began to be.
But chiefliest in the spirit (beast or man,
Planet of heaven or blossom of earth or sea)
The divine contraries of life began.

For the great labour of growth, being many, is one;
One thing the white death and the ruddy birth;
The invisible air and the all-beholden sun,
And barren water and many-childed earth.

And these things are made manifest in men
From the beginning forth unto this day:
Time writes and life records them, and again
Death seals them lest the record pass away.

For if death were not, then should growth not be,
Change, nor the life of good nor evil things;
Nor were there night at all nor light to see,
Nor water of sweet nor water of bitter springs.

For in each man and each year that is born
Are sown the twin seeds of the strong twin powers;
The white seed of the fruitful helpful morn,
The black seed of the barren hurtful hours.

And he that of the black seed eateth fruit,
To him the savour as honey shall be sweet;
And he in whom the white seed hath struck root,
He shall have sorrow and trouble and tears for meat.

And him whose lips the sweet fruit hath made red
In the end men loathe and make his name a rod;
And him whose mouth on the unsweet fruit hath fed
In the end men follow and know for very God.

And of these twain, the black seed and the white,
All things come forth, endured of men and done;
And still the day is great with child of night,
And still the black night labours with the sun.

And each man and each year that lives on earth
Turns hither or thither, and hence or thence is fed;
And as a man before was from his birth,
So shall a man be after among the dead.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Elegy On The Death Of A Church Mouse

‘Colonel Gaddafi is dead; long live Gaddafi’,
- whose words those are?

don’t shoot, don’t shoot,
enough blood is spilled!
Gaddafi,
a leaf from the tree is dead;

leaf sprouts, leaf eats, leaf sleeps in the sky,
leaf waves the world in the cheer of palm,
makes no sand out of storm,
no beating themselves by the horse drain,
no hanging noose by the cock’s strain.

Leaf feeds the tree with green
when upon it’s tender face, the horrid-sun shine,
leaf, bearer of flower, bearer of seed,
never the taster of the sap from earth
till drops dead in the paleness of red,

‘don't shoot, don't shoot,
upon the sand is blood,
for the Colonel is dead’,
said, the tree,

and said, ‘Long live Gaddafi!

poem by Saranyan Bee
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A New leaf

There’s a new leaf upon the Tree
A thousand, thousand have been before
In the life of this great tree
Yet, the Tree rejoices, and is glad
For there is a New Leaf upon the tree

The roots are deep, and hidden
Tis one tree from root to branch
And lives in and through each leaf
The hearts’ smile resurrected
Through the New leaf upon the tree

Like the stars of heaven
New leaves have been many
And so they all are One
For they all share the same root
Bless the New leaf upon the tree

Perfection in the Blessing
Joy released in tears of love
The strength in life will comfort
From root to God above
A New leaf upon the tree

Beauty, Truth, and life
Complete from root to branch
When life’s cycle turns
Leaves fall to nourish roots
And behold, a New leaf upon the tree

poem by Adrian Wait
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You Have Cast Your Spell...

Is It Magic?

I know not why I love.
Have you cast your spell of magic,
that makes this so?

I have taken to notice, the magic
that is life. Is that you? Is it
your magic that makes me so aware?

You are part of my entire being.
Is this also, your magic at work?

There's a song in my heart, and a
spring in my step. Is it magic?
Is it love? Magic? Love? Both?

When apart I feel a loss. Is
it your magic, that compels me
to miss you so?

The Magic of your kiss. The Magic of
your voice. The Magic of your touch.
If it is magic, I am completely
and willing, under your spell.

Can I live but a day, without the
love of your magic? No. Not
a day, or a minute, or one second
for all eternity.

I have never felt this way before.
Nor will I ever again, without
the cloak of your magic.

You are, and always will be,
My Magic Lady.

Yes...yes, most will say it is
love. Love perhaps.
Magic? Definitely.

poem by Joe Fazio
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It's Love! Magic!