The Seed  

I had a dream.
And in this dream I saw a seed, singing in the air.
From far below the garden heard and begged the graceful dancer
To couple with its fecund loam and live forever after.

The charming seed was glad to hear, so descended from the firmament.
The seed was pleased and wove its life into the living fundament.
In its time it sprouted and twinkled in delight.
Then it reached into the darkness, and this tree drew back the night.

Branches grew from branches, seasons circled round and round.
The tree grew thick and stunning, with a glowing gilded crown.
Golden branches blossomed as seasons circled more,
The blossoms swelled to tempting fruit and I ate a golden core.

This living tree, it spoke to me, eternal lines through time.
Its memory enlightened, and our greatness came to mind.
I heard Socrates and Shakespeare, pondered Moses on the Mount.
I heard Dickinson and Wordsworth, and wandered as a cloud.

And in this dream I saw a leaf upon a golden tree.
A breeze came by and swayed the tree to set its treasure free.
The tree released its golden leaf upon the gentle breeze.
Floating, swaying, dancing down, it lit upon this leaf.

In the beginning there was darkness.
Then the word became.
This tree was called eternity.
And in it we are named.

© 2006 Murray Walford