The Seed of Me

In Patience


I am a slender thing, a

Wet small seed of self.

Layer upon layer of time

And growth

Blocks from me the surface of the earth.


The time is not yet.

 I drink water from the roots of trees,

Grounding myself.

I rest in molecules of shine

That filtered down through dirt

Like white light through stained glass:

Warm, and comforting.

I rest

In the knowledge of all the time there is.

Rush is not a word     

In the lexicon of my seedling self.

All things

In their own time


And so I wait

With all the wisdom of my journey around, above,

And yet to come.

Neither growing nor asleep

I rest

A tiny source of light

Humming and sparking softly

To myself.

This entry was posted in Poems From the Meditation Space and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The Seed of Me

  1. Pat Cegan says:

    Such a sweet poem, Alix. I like “molecules of shine.” And your comment about there being no rush is true as we have infinite time as souls continue to grow and explore. Wonderful poem, my dear Alix, as always! hugs, pat

  2. Alix Moore says:

    I write what I am trying to learn. Patience is a challenge for me always, but I am practicing. lol

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