I have seen this with the drops
Raindrops—Yes—those
Some, I hear
Disappear
Many still hit the ground though
But this one
Single and solitaire
The source—the wind
Meaning unknown
And CO2 had another fan
Young and fragile
Its prodding stem persisted
A glimpse of the Sun
The rays in the undergrowth
So scattered they are!
Then one Son—a ray
As graceful as the life
Saw the yearning of the latter
The suffering and endurance
Or there was none at all
The stem fluttered
The hairs cried
The soils ripped apart
The Son was trying
To save a life woven in plasta
Where it went
The goats yawned
Damn sweet lush olives!
That green it…
It makes me jump out of me
One day after another
The grip of the Son’s hand
On the kamba that firmly
Chained the lustful goat
Is what saved a life
Then the goat does not
Need the olive anymore
And the Son never
Waters the olive anymore
He just stands, not squat
When he was a Sun,
His rays shone on the olive
Years down the line
That shining never fluttered
Until today, when the olive is
The Sun
You look at it and think
Simple, only a seed, and boom!
A life is born
A tree grows
But it is just a tree
©Simon21
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