Versifications - Occasional fits of verse and poetry

The Gardener (Seed Sower)

In her labyrinthine garden
from earth, from sky
from water, from sun -
a small seed
warms.

A tendril up, a rootlet down -
two small spirals
twisting towards light and dark -
push to freedom, press to nourishment -
growing bolder both
from dark of moon
to fullness in time.
Lovely magenta blooms
going to seed under a Blue Moon.

She stands nearby
drawing in moonlight with every breath -
gathering seed puffs,
feather light,
magenta kernels clinging to white fluff
perched on stems dying, set to fly.

Breathing out gently.
Blowing upwards and outwards
Her breath lifts tiny beings
planting hope and joy wherever moon shines her light.

Humming a grateful tune, she smiles,
plucking the next seed pod
to release under the Blue Moon.

Possibilities

Steps to Tintagel Castle

Not long ago I was at a memorial for a friend who had passed on. I ran into the sister of someone another friend who had passed recently. I told her that I missed her sister's presence. I rarely saw her sister as she knew. She looked a bit puzzled. 

What I really meant was that I missed the possibility, now gone, of meeting her sister on the street, or in a bookstore, or in a meeting. The possibility of having that person to tea and discussing books all afternoon. The possibility of laughing with her again. The possibility of subtle humor shared. To those left on earth that person becomes finite. The possibility of doing more with them, of being more is gone.  I miss possibilities.