From Weeds' Ground To Seeds Found Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

As weeds which struggle spite capricious light,
each generation reaches out for space,
each generation fights to mark its place
before the next, forgetful, frets Time’s night.

As weeds we wither when our mortal plight
severs theme's thread, dreams seem too often vain
before most seek beyond pain's wi[n]dow pane
which separates won world from Nature’s bite.

Few glow within, wing free flight holiday,
few fail to compromise, in any case
few dare prolong the moment’s state of grace
when faced with choice – heed winning voice “We may! ”

Where rare exception to fools’ rule is found,
weeds fail to fuel foul play, rot healthy ground.


Where chance encounter contradicts Earth's dearth
of understanding and enlightenment
one rose through smog's pollution spreading scent
is worth wait's weight, may herald hope's rebirth.

Where joy and reciprocity share berth
with touching tenderness, no supplement
should be sought after as entitlement,
enjoy Time's gifts and revel in paired mirth.

Who seeks on land or sea, our wide world's girth
for satisfaction in life's sojourn lent
may well discover to his doorstep's sent
bliss peerless trading restlessness for worth.

Bid welcome earnest stranger at your gate,
maybe [s]he holds gold keys joys conjugate.