Seeding Poem by Jacqui Thewless

Do not speak of love,
lasting.

Like spring, it is not kept still; like summer, it wavers;
by fall, it is already seeding.

Love is busy, molding the perfect architecture of your heart.

No need to notice the changes it goes through to make you who you are.

Think of the being you might have been, ‘if not

for the silent arrows', ‘if skies hadn't fallen', ‘if earth hadn't shook',

‘if you hadn't chosen to...'