We don't need arms of iron, but an iron will...
Sprout:
One last rain and the seed has burst
Out she yawns, a tender sprout
A lovely child, now she stands
Draped in green, unfurling out
She breaks the bricks and plastered walls
She cracks open the rocky earth
And as she sees the magical sky
Fills abundance where dwelled only dearth
Against all odds a little sprout:
A feeling or will, a longing or love;
Rises and rises towards the sun
And nests many a million doves
-Mx
He asked bamboo why it was so hollow and bamboo replied "I am full"
"With what? " he asked, curious.
"Full of potential of course! Can you fill that what is full already?"
He fell silent. Amazed. Stunned.
Is it's hollowness it's sadness? Or is it a strength? After all, only those who fall can bounce back. Resilience has its prerequisites ...
BAMBOO
Flutes made out of bamboo
Such lovely notes they play
In noise of world are oft smothered
Their tunes yet here to stay
They chop them down in forests
Brutal as they can be
Yet in their homes in crystal vase
A bamboo shoot they see
Saddened, 'now' it is 'hollow'
In hands of ingrates and brutes
Hollow bamboo makes more noise
And oft, melodious flutes
-Mx
Dear Jane your smile is just a ripple
You can fool the world dead ill
Your depths are still dead still, my dear
Your depths are still dead still
Dear Jane it is but a reflection
This moonlight off your face
You glow so dark, such grace, my dear
You glow so dark, such grace
Dear Jane you killed your self alone
Yet your blood reeks so kind
You stand alone, yet bind, my dear
You stand alone, yet bind
-Mx
Against all resistance, survive! Like the swan in the poem:
WHITE
From under the laburnum
She rises out from a yellow lake
The white swan
