Sprouting: A Poem
Sprouting, growing, inside me, within me,
But there's an infinite tangle of vines,
Every direction is explored without destination,
Up, high up, reaching for heights unknown,
Shadowy darkness just adds to the confusion,
Down, way down, the roots of pain pull me,
Something bright beckons me from my open mouth,
Stretching, yearning, for the light up above,
Waiting for a drop of hope to water my wishes,
Strength is my sustenance, steadying my stem over time,
Sprouting, growing, inside me, within me,
Someday my tongue will bloom words of wisdom,
Then the silent rose will shed its sharp thorns.
More Poetry
- Me: A Poem
This is an introspective poem about looking beyond one's self. - Pause: A Poem
Waiting is half the battle when on a journey towards love.