The Silver Seed

Loyalty is born
As the world dies.

Life makes its final
Descent and clings
Firmly to the earth.
It bursts from its
Fragile shell, digs
Into hardened soil,
And buries itself
Beneath a blanket
Of leaves. There it
Sleeps tangled ’round
The roots of a
Dormid Existence.

Patiently life waits
To be seen. At the
Feet of skeleton
Trees it endures.
The barren season
Passes overhead.
White settles upon
The grey and grey
Hovers above the white.
Trust takes root and
Prepares to hold
On unceasingly.

One day it will sprout
Into a mighty tree.
Its leaves will be the
First to bud and the
Last to fall. Its roots
Will dig the deepest
And its wood will
Resist decay. Of any
Tree in any forest
It will fight to stand
The longest.

It will be:
A steadfast shelter
A welcoming home
A faithful protector

It will rise until the end.

For the present, however,
– As winter starts to chill –
Loyalty will begin
By never letting go.

© Jeremiah Dowling 2012


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About Jeremiah Dowling

I write poetry and take crazy pictures in an Orange Chair all over the United States while reading amazing books.

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