By Marcea Bond
She plants the seed
With the hope that it should grow
This little seed, she does not know
But every day she coaxes it and learns a little more
finally it’s time for the seed to shed its core
She listens deeply…what do you need?
The little seed breaths in to say, I’m on my own now but stay close at bay
The gardener now takes her leave to watch her seed from afar
Soon next week her seed will be reaching for the stars
•-•
This gardener did not once know
The way to care for seeds
Once she thought her only job was to harvest for her feeding
Now she knows the sweetest seeds only come from caring
•-•
A mother is a gardener, she sows the seeds of life
Not only does she guide her young
But she guards them with her life
Her job is surely a wanted one, yet few can do it well
She carries light, she carries love, she unites the ones around her
like a leader does.
•-•
The seed, now a woman, is a flower
she blossoms in the sun
She walks with pride and consciousnesses
And laughs till the day is done
The embodiment of angels
So too, she fights the lions
Her strength is not unrecognized
Yet men still put her down
She rises through the vines unscathed
With her head held high
A leader she has always been, a guider strong and true
She allows herself to fall, with the faith that she can stand
The day that she tries flying will be a day for all to see
As a woman, with a mission, can carry us all to peace.
MARCEA BOND is a student at Bard College at Simon’s Rock.
