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.