Seeds Of Such Beginnings

Today's theme: Seeds, nuts.

First picture: "From An Undefined Seed". Middle picture: "An Implausible Nut". Third picture: "The Seed Overlapping".





The Seed Spoke
----------------

The seed spoke. Within the earthen dirt it had rested.
But then it cracked, if subtly. And from inside that
Darkened crevice came its glistening purpose. Out
From its middle came the image unseen. The seed
Then broke; and there among it was the light,
Was the television's surreal sky. Upwards, it remained
The paradox and the permutation. And so, it
Surely was made, a truth conceived. Oh, nihilistic
Once was this simple legume. But now it
Has expelled its doubt; and it transforms. Ascending
In its transmutation is the seedling from its
Lonely cocoon. Ascending is the green assumption of
Our awakening. Oh, now I wonder, can the essence
Of life be triumphant? Or will our human disdain
Subdue the vegetation that is ourselves? Will we
Allow our magnificence to thrive? Or will we
Deserve our shameful guilt? Do we suspect that
We have already spited our wonder and its entitlement?

===================

I may have posted this one already.

The Simple Metaphor Of Life
------------------------------

Behind the fluids dripping upward, beneath
The loops all merged into this rain, there
Inside that stem lifted to enclose each concentricity,
There is the seed, the leaf, are the specks conjoined
To become bulbous and perceived. For there
Is the simple metaphor of life, of the gaze,
Is the mind's magnificent droplet, floating
Vertically, rising until it is our truth,
Until it becomes an air-bubble, beheld in
The shell of this egg, of this nautilus, of
Our sorrowful suffocation. Up, up it flies;
For, it is created via the ground, via the
Branch protruding from its own shadow. And
The circle grows, transforming into a triangle,
Transforming into our flesh provoked,
Transforming into the levitation of certainty remade
Among such dim and hallucinated evolution.

+++++++++++++++

The Sprout Arrives
-------------------

It cracked. The seed underneath us, it split.
And ascending from its center arrived the pearl,
Arrived the sphere of glass, arrived the sprout
Filled with stubborn and mundane transition. Oh,
This seedling did not know its own thoughts,
Did not understand the travesties of humanity.
And it certainly was denied by its entanglement.

Ah, this wet cusp arose. And upward,
The point pierced the breeze. And it
Became me. And it gazed upon its own
Delicacy. And it rectified its curves
Within the sand. Then it remained
Equal to me, as I became my voices.

It cracked and faltered, and soon it rearranged.
It withered, before it vanished. And now,
Its purpose is encompassed, encompassed by
The seed, the nut, by the shell containing but
A pearl, but a glass sphere, containing but what
Is protruding yet again -- yet never, yet only once
-- Containing the death that entrances us, tempting
Us each to our ultimate and exacting nihilism.

.....................................

This Bean Of Progeny's Enumerated Balance
-----------------------------------------------------

The seed of escalating spin, of outwardness
Derived to be that extraction, it swirls
And sleeps within the tangle of apparent light.
It is this rotation of vertical self, of green
And brown, of stains secreted by their truth.

This nut, this bean of progeny's enumerated balance,
It wraps itself with its entwining, wraps
The mental certainty of our dark string with
These sacrificial droplets we surely swallow.

This severed pit of cursive redemption, it
Represents the birth of such a plant, of
Such a spiral endured. Oh, this recreated bud
Of astigmatic youth, it haphazardly disconnects
From its cliches, from its expressions undefined.


Thanks,
Leroy Quet