I am a path

I am a path, hard packed

and well trodden; seed

falls for the birds to eat.

I am a rocky place, jagged

and thin; shallow; seed

falls, sprouts, dies.

I am a thorn, sharp

and puncturing; seed

falls and I strangle it.

I am good soil, deep

and rich and full; seed

falls and bears abundance.

I am all of these.

Painting: The Sower by Vincent Van Gogh (1888), Kroller-Muller Museum, Otterlo, Netherlands.

Thorns

I count the thorns

that puncture and

tear; overwhelming

in number and

thickness, a density

of ripped sharpness

and points, they

strangle and kill,

eventually. Extracting

them from my hand

is painful.

This poem is submitted for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets. To see other poem submitted, please visit the site. The links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time today.

Photograph: Thistle in bloom by Petr Kratochvil via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission. 

No path

No path; the barren places

point upward to a jagged sky

of tarnished blue. I look

for a cloth to polish the clouds,

unkempt and unruly,

but find only pebbled dust

to wash their edges. Seeds

scatter among the stones,

unborn.

Photograph: Red Rock Canyon by Shari Weinsheimer via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

Three pearls

I.

The colors of the pearl

sing of sunrises and

skies, conceived

in the imagination

of an oyster who

has seen neither.

The pearl and

its colors are all

the oyster has,

II.

A pearl starts life

an insignificant,

worthless piece

of grit, fractioned

and juiced to be

something it isn’t

and never intended

to be.

III.

It was a treasure,

a pearl. It was

hidden, it was

left in plain sight.

It was sold and

bought,

it was desired and

sought.

It was a treasure,

a pearl.

These poems are submitted to Open Link Night at dVerse Poets. To see more poems, please visit dVerse Poets. The links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time today.