Like a field fallow,my heart is sleeping
With the seeds buried deep inside
Waiting for the rainfall to pop up their heads
And catch a glimpse of the sun’s majesty.
They have carved a niche for themselves
In the Mediterranean climate of my heart, kind and mild,
Bubbling soft and intoxicating hymns
To my ears grown mellow with life’s experiences.
Not all the seeds will grow into plants,
Some will be buried along with me.
Rare are the seeds, the seeds of love,
Often misunderstood in this loveless world,
Soft to touch and softer still to assimilate,
Eternity being too short to express about them.
Pramila Khadun
Seeds are waiting for the rainfall to pop up their heads and realize the beauty of nature. Very nice indeed.
Thanks Ramesh for this wonderful comment, I love it indeed.
superb poem pramila ji 🙂 deeper,insightful and pertaining to or related to existential essence of self-sprouting because of all the seeds in one’s heart.
What a marvellous comment dear Maaya, love it with all my heart.
Exquisite. Every word in the right place.
Thanks dear Vijay, you make me so happy with this beautiful comment of yours.
“Rare are the seeds, the seeds of love”
‘Eternity’ plays a magic touch when it turns itself a lesser cannon proving ‘Love’ !
Exquisite!
Thanks dear Tapeshwar for this wonderful reply, love it.
profound one.. well expressed 🙂
Thanks dear Sarala,I love your comment with all my heart.
“Not all the seeds…..in this loveless world”—
Charismatic ! Rarely does one come across a philosophical statement that can influence the reader’s mind with its profundity as in this gem of a poem !
Kumaara, you filled my heart to the brim with this comment of yours which has a diamond luster.Thanks dear.