As the Seedling Goes…

Poor Man's Wordsworth

As the seedling goes,
So goes the wellspring of
Bounteous hopes;
Once a scant thought encapsulated
By the shell of uninterrupted possibilities,
A stalk solidifies and sheds its skin,
And images awaken from repose.
Tomorrow a garden bears her sundry fruits,
Hearkening to a season that flows through the lips
And to the center of every expectant heart.

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