THE SEEDS
BY FIONA CUMMINGS
As the seeds scatter
I watch the wind forming patterns of butterfly like wings across the sunny southerly
facing field. The clouds glide as if to push the future flowers floating
feathered dust, like on a mission as though a must. Landing where? They don’t
care. Free from thought or bother, over our land of vast welcoming soil,
covering like foil into our troubled ground, without sound they plant themselves
no need for racks or shelves. Sleeping for a while until Mother Nature wakes
them up, to say good morning to a buttercup or a neighbour who is a prickly
rose, who knows what they will be? No one knows until they show their heads
open their eyes and bloom. They don’t care about not having a room they spread
in a bed of glory, telling a wonderful story of where they came from on that
day of flight. Such a sight, leaning towards babbling brooks or rivers that
flow sometimes fast and furious other times slow. Such colours all kinds of
flowers bees and birds land on their innocent petals avoiding nettles and who
teaches our creatures this? What to eat, what to avoid and what may be silk bedding
for them to make their place of slumber for the night? Mother Nature? A God we
have not yet as far as we know it met? Where is their safety net? I wonder if
it’s us? Are we to save and protect our beautiful garden of fragrance and
light? Fight with all our might to deplete this continuous concrete. Spring time
is here and we have a yellow sheet of daffodils with pretty bows and frills
sweet scenery to fill our memory with Easter bliss, like our first loves kiss
as unforgettable is the daffodil. Daffodils grow on waving hills under trees
and busy roadsides and return every year with cheer and smiles and they just go
on for miles and miles, like groups of shoppers queuing for the latest bargains.
Why as humans do we keep planting bulbs why this constant need for colour in
our gardens?
Even those without sight feel it’s our human right to know
we have blossoms colourful heads beneath our steps and climbing up our walls.
Framing waterfalls and lining lakes showering shaded area’s and gifts after giving
birth, or for saying goodbye to a life on earth.
Don’t ever think we have the right that they are ours. Don’t
take for granted this fortune of flowers For they are to be treasured for our leisure
and for giving life to the nature that brought it to us, no need to make a fuss
just look to the sky above and know what is given to you is love
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