I search in people of varying status <br />for a seed of humanity. <br /> <br />In some I suspect there to be a bud <br />and a sun be shining down upon it, <br />Water be poured out on it, <br />feeding and nourishing it to greater life. <br /> <br />Others I assume will have matured growth, <br />singing of the blisses spring has swept along, <br />reaching to others, spreading its song, <br />and strengthening those that have yet to bloom. <br /> <br />But then there are those <br />that I do not understand, <br />no matter how strong my wish is to know. <br />Their dirt holds a seed, but the dark overshadows it <br />and the rain is pent up in the sky <br />and everything that is buried is starved, <br />everything below the dirt is dry.<br /><br />Bianca Free<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/12388-12412-12415-buds/
