Baby

in my world
all things move
like creepers

like strawberry
tendrils
on a very
wide field

it rains all day
but all possibilities grow here
like seeds

i like sunshine
the warmth of its kindness
but i dispensed with it

i love
the pebbles drenched with
rain

they are mute
but the have learned the silence
of their songs

in my world
i am just one of the possibilities
i am a seed
but i may decide not to grow

i may simply be
one of the pebbles that learned to love
the silence of their songs

i like it here
thick and covered
dark and damp.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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