Skip to main content

The Seed I Hold


Van Gogh’s Sunflowers in a Vase pose gallantly on a backdrop awash in the colors of the sea
Smattering, palette coatings of paints, mixed and smeared creating the portrait of my seed
For my hand holds a beginning…
Dried, weathered-grey and mottled, plucked from the sun star encompassing the potager’s border
Face upturned to capture the intense rays bursting to meet earth and soil
The rendering of my seed vibrantly expresses the emotions of life…
Bright and full of promise, as well as burnt and arid … wilting, waiting to be cast into the ground, yes
But…pushing against the earth heaped upon it, my seed labors to sprout and flourish
Emerging with a deeper understanding of life’s spectrum
Until then, the portrait remains as a reminder of the potential stored within us


Sunflowers are tall and strong; always facing the sun,
yet bowing their heads in humbleness

 ~ Missy

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

urban girl in the country

green in concrete For the last lot-of-years I’ve lived in urban areas.  I’ve become a city girl with hints of a flower child mixed with hipster nuances…translated I like to wear skinny jeans.  This is the total opposite of how I grew up, which was on a farm.  My paternal grandparents grew, raised, caught and hunted for everything they ate – radical organic, free-range stuff.  On my Mom’s side of the fam tree, there were green grocers and orchard growers.  Heck, I was in 4-H raising feeder calves and a small flock of wooly sheep.  Gardens, canning, freezing and preserving everything was the ordinary. I carried on the gardening-preserving, saving the spoils piece, until I found myself in fresh veggie-at-a-farmer’s-market heaven!  The foreign city I found myself in had a temperate climate where fruit and vegetables could be grown year ‘round, and … it was sold at a giant open air market every week.  Yippee!  I no longer needed to ...
8 comments
Read more

In full abandon, straining on tiptoes

A scrap of paper tucked in my journal is full of scribbled notes and words, people’s names – really it would appear to be miscellany.  One phrase is “in full abandon.”  The expression had a reference, but now reading it almost daily, it takes on new significance and worth. a.ban.don:  to leave and never return (Merriam-Webster) The word “abandon” conjures negative thinking; abandoned lot, abandoned project, abandoned people. Places and things are left for trash or individuals that have been discarded and tossed aside.  This definition certainly leaves one feeling rather desolate and, well … abandoned. On the sunny side of the street, abandon is also yielding without restraint, to give up control.  It’s bursting with exuberance. Picture being in full abandon:  there’s a child running down a hillside, arms flailing and legs barely able to keep them upright.  He is on the verge of tumbling head over heels, but somehow if that happen...
6 comments
Read more

road tripping: french glen and steens mountain

we took a stinkin' lot of dirt roads, but i wouldn't have it any other way The drive wasn’t long by west coast standards, a mere few of hours; which meant there was plenty of leisure (interpreted coffee time) before leaving on another road trip escapade.  I can’t begin to tell you how much fun it is to pack a bag, gas up the car and set out to see what can be seen. An interesting thing I’ve discovered on these exploits, is that having lived in Oregon for the majority of my life, I’ve missed “seeing” a lot of things. You know, I think we all get into the habit of going to the same places, which is a good thing, but we forget about the “other” places that are right in our own backyards. Case in point, yesterday afternoon, when my darling man and I went to Tumalo Falls. I’ve been to Skyliner Snow Park, but never gone the few more dirt road miles to see the falls. Holy cow! Is that lame, or what? a sweet little place, no frills, but plenty of yesteryear ...
8 comments
Read more