Season's filter slowly.
Nights darkest moment,
grey skies turn to blue.
Fragrance of flowers,
petals yet to unfold.
Searching for words left unsaid.
Twisting, Tumbling, Turning,
Spinning out of control,
replays the vision of yesteryears mind.
Walk away, Walk away...I choose to run.
You speak, calling from afar.
Ears that refused to hear,
a heart dry, wilted.
How can this heart still beat so strong?
Reach out, grab hold,
cling, breath, see!
I heard you gently whisper,
Remember the lesson of the mustard seed.
©2003 Tina Clark
I too have mustard seed that have grown and produced so much in my life and many more I am striving to nututre. Excellent wisdom...
Peggy
There are lots of mustard seeds in my life and many have already grown big and strong
some I have yet to plant.
a WISE poem.