She lay with Heaven and bore deep-swirling Oceanus.” Hesiod’s Theogony
I’m a spring weed, vines
repined by frosty season
but now they’re creeping,
and dirty despair buried me,
fantasies of hard shoots
and double D leaves, all
thawed by shifting reason.
My germination is defeating.
I make myself into a seed
curled over, cold snap slaps
soften my shell, the protective coat
receding. I make-believe the embryo
inside me has all it needs,
planted by a watery stream
of last night’s satin sheets.
If I hold still, will his gibberellin
stand me straight
push me into heaven?
© khartless 2022, All Rights Reserved
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
This is great ❤️
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Thank you. 💜
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Amazing!! A beautiful encapsulation. Really stunning. I find it hard to pick out bits to comment on because, like the seed it talks about, it works so beautifully as a whole.
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Thank you so much, Worms. 😃 I love the story this painting had to tell.
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“I make myself into a seed
curled over, cold snap slaps
soften my shell, the protective coat
receding.” Gorgeous poetry, K. 💜
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Thank you, Jeff. Birth is always so beautiful.💜
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You’re welcome, K. Always. It is indeed. 💜
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Double D leaves is exquisite and then it gets better!!!
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Thank you kindly, Hobbo. Where would we be without our leafy greens? 😂
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😂 Where would we be indeed.
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This is beautiful 👌
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Thank you. 💜
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Wonderfully powerful imagery, K! Great uplifting read 🙂
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😊 Thank you, Tom. I found the painting rather stimulating and I’m so glad you enjoyed this piece.
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