The wildflowers are starting to sprout on the shoulders of highways, the hills along the side of the road, my neighbors’ yards.
Their seeds will be blown and scattered, each one holding the potential of all creation.
Does the flower worry about which seeds will take root and which will wash away with the next rain?
Does she hold them close, not wanting to squander the precious gifts she holds within her heart?
Or does she release, with joyful abandon, surrendering to the mystery of the unknowing?
More and more I remember that the seed that is blown from where I stand, never to be seen again, may very well land and grow in someone else’s garden.
Last week, I shared the poem "Sprouts" and reflected on amusement as a component of creating the conditions for our flourishing. In response I received a message and a poem from a reader who said, "Just as one card leads to another, another gets paid forward. Time is NEVER wasted and amusements light my fire. May it be so forever."
I asked if I could share his poetic response and he said yes. Here is my friend John Kavanaugh's take on sprouts in the form of a taiku:
How blooming wonderful
Kids cavorting, giggling, snorting
Colts prancing, entrancing, footloose, unbridled
Bees love sprouts too
They are we
- By John Kavanaugh
Sometimes I imagine that ideas are like dandelion seeds floating in the atmosphere, lingering on the wind, hoping to alight in fertile consciousness. May we share our gifts, ideas, inspiration, and creative sparks, planting seeds for ourselves and those around us, and perhaps more exuberantly, for the unknowable future.
p.s. - If you enjoyed this poem, consider sending it to someone who might like it as well.