Willow Poetry

Tiny seeds in the hands of the Student
planted with care,
with anticipated expectation of growth
When spring comes to be
Miracle little sprouts peek to the surface
This, to the glory of the Student
The Teacher is near, observing his choice Disciple
The Student forgets the Teacher that gave her the seed
Thinking she is the creator of such beauty as this sprout,
The Disciple waters her priced phenomena
She spends long hours and days observing the seed’s unfolding
She lends a hand to ward off what is not of prime choice,
This, to enable the sprout’s growth to reach maturity
When at long last the Disciple discovers,
To her expectation,
That the planted seed is now growing towards the Light,
Her ego swells like the fat chest of a Pigeon.

In the night, the Disciple dreams of the Creator.
The Creator reminds the Student that all comes from the Light
And not from her own hand.
In the morning the Student Disciple runs to her garden
All the while to caress the jewel sprout into her hands.

Whispering into the Life of the Sprout, she pronounces,
“I see you God. It is you who provided me with the seed,
How beautiful is your Glory and Creation,
Do teach me how to care for your Creation
The very seed that you have given me
The one that I see now unfolding before my eyes.”

Hélène/Mother Willow©Poetry