Sunday, December 27, 2009



Begins in the seed of silence,
the quiet of the darkness before
dawn, as night
whimpers, finally, into day; when for
a moment of fragile stillness
night and day become one, when
a death and a birth exist
as a life;
a life.

Within the seed, the intended
destruction of the quiet, the
silence to be wiped away. The
seed erupts, the warm birth
shedding death’s cold grip, its
absence, its emptiness. The
seed bursts from its husk,
becoming a faith;
a faith.


Maureen said...

So beautifully written, Glynn.

The visuals and repetition work well. I can hear "as night / whimpers, finally, into day"; know that place where "night and day become one" and see how the "seed erupts. . . / bursts from its husk".

"Within the seed, the intended / destruction of the quiet" is a powerful line.

Also powerful is your faith that serves you so well.

Anonymous said...

i imagine
the power
of the Holy Spirit
within the seed
the power
of the death
and resurrection
of Jesus
in the world
and within
those who
wait upon
His return

katdish said...

I loved this, Glynn. Your poem, as with a good art, speaks to a place in me that might be different from another reader. But speaks nonetheless.

Anonymous said...

Truly a profound image with its roots in scriptures - the seed must die to become the living, growing plant. Still hard to grasp, but your poem brings us a little closer to an understanding of what faith is.

S. Etole said...

this keeps calling me back ...

Linda said...

This is achingly beautiful Glynn.

Anne Lang Bundy said...

Wow, do your words resonate with my heart this morning. Yesterday's sunrise was under clear skies that quickly cloued. Today's? At 8 am darkness still cloaked the sky. Living near the 45th parallel, on the western edge of the Eastern time zone, between cloudy lakes, makes for some gloomy winter mornings.

I recently told someone that winter barrenness is a facade for waiting life. This is a timely and welcome reminder of such promise. Thank you, Glynn.

L.L. Barkat said...

I liked this...

seed bursts from its husk,
becoming a faith;
a faith."

Maybe the repetition at the end was part of the allure. Like a quiet assent.

Unknown said...

Death to live.
Death into faith.

True, and a fitting reminder. I like the progression of the poem, and that repetition at the end also, like a clear bell tone.

Anonymous said...

A life and a faith-- do we need anything more, truly?