Freedom is what you all seek
And freedom will you have
One day in time
Freedom is the sweet fruit
The harvest time
Countless centuries have passed
Many have sacrificed
Not in vain
Never in vain
For
All acts are recorded
In the book of time
All deeds
All misdeeds
All occurances
All done for a reason
Or
Reasons
In reason and love
All add to the collective
All wait patiently
Upon the branches
Of
The tree of life
Waiting patiently
Until thr day of harvest
That time is different
From orchard to orchard
Branch to branch
When the time arrives
The sweet fruit is harvested
Countless centuries of hard work
And
Toil in
Before the coming of this day
No one knowing the exact time
Of harvest
All knowing
Only
That that day will surely arrive
The sweet fruit nourished
By
Sun and water
A seed planted so long ago
That only a few remember
A seed of hope
A seed of love
A seed of longing and expectation
A seed that grew
A seed that flourished
A seed that held within itself
The hopes and dreams
Of
Countless human beings
Soon
Comes the day of harvest
All can taste the sweetness
All can benefit from the nutrients
All can enjoy
The moment of completion
Each in their own time
Each in their own way
Each fulfilling their role
Each ending their toils
Each moving on to market
To share the fruit
With all of this Earth
All whom long for the sweetness
All whom will long no more
Complete in the knowing
That their work here is over
Each celebrating with their fellows
The harvest dance
A dance that will
Take us to the stars
A circular dance
That will complete this cycle
Within the Earth dance
We dance
Until
We can dance no more
Then rest
Converse
Commune
Eat of the sweet fruit
Save the seeds
And
Hand them over
To the next generation
So that
They may grow their own trees
With fruit to their own liking
Work, toil, harvest
Finally to dance
Their dance of creation
Circles within circles
Dances within dances
Celebrations within celebrations
Creation continues
Circular and unending
Beginning to end
End to beginning
Being to being
The eternal dance
© 2016 M.N. Hopkins
Save the seeds And Hand them over To the next generation So that They may grow their own trees With fruit to their own liking Work, toil, harvest Finally to dance Their dance of creation Circles within circles Dances within dances Celebrations within celebrations Creation continues Circular and unending Beginning to end End to beginning Being to being The eternal dance.. great write, nice theme. We must hand over the seeds to next generation and by dint of labour they dance. Nice penmanship. Thanks for sharing.
Yes, KM. I have and will continue to do so. I listened to my teachers when they gave me advice on how to improve my reading and writing skills. I took their advice and created my own unique style of writng later in life. They gave me a good foundation to build upon. I was blessed to have such fine teachers at an early age. As Educators, this is what we are obligated to do.
An extraordinary poem. Immortality, advanced. Written with life's unending dance,
Freedom, a very misunderstood term. Yes free mind and soul always enjoy togetherness and dance in tango. Crafty poem.
Most, not all have freedom to choose. Making the right choice is the key.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderful piece, Michael. Thank you for sharing
You are very welcome Kelly. Kindest regards, Mike
You are very welcome Kelly.