NATURE Poem: Origin, by Josh Wren

Here, where long fields curve
and bees spread apart
the fuzzy middle of flowers,
where loam is loose and dark,
one seed
delays to curl open and rise,
preferring to sleep and dream,
replaying the hidden scene
of its beginning—
the way it rushed—
after songbirds bumped a branch
and wet winds gushed
when Spring sprung from deep sleep
that deep where loam was crushed,
frozen and forgotten—
Oh!
to remember the way one took
and how the loam looked and felt
upon one’s face
(sharp and icy? or damp and warm?)
before a face was even formed.

Author: poetryfest

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