The Seed of Life
Beginning from a living plant,
Drops timely on the earth,
Its only friend a passing ant,
Waiting patiently, given birth.
Conditions in the soil must be,
Ideal for the season,
Weed or flower, shrub or tree,
Nature heeds no reason.
The fate is cast in many ways,
A bird may take a bite,
Depending on how many days,
Lies hidden, out of sight.
Deeper into grass and leaves,
Moisture holds its own,
Swelling slightly, it receives,
Life, from where it’s sown.
Green the color taking form,
Root stakes deep its claim,
Summer rains, fresh and warm,
Continuing on the strain.
From a seed all things are born,
Keeping this planet alive,
Endless beauty to adorn,
Mainly the strong survive.
From where art came the first?
On a plane of molten stone,
How then, became dispersed,
Many questions yet unknown.
G.R. Gaus's Other Poems
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