I have seeds.
In my seeds,
The weeds
needed to choke the seeds
but I arose to weed the weeds
from the seeds
I burnt the weeds
like dry reeds
to ashes
Arose the Mighty-wind
to fan the fire into fierce red
and
to blow the ashes
away into hazes…
For every weed
That starves my seed,
Be unweeded.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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