POEM - The Song Of The Seedling

Not thunder's drum, nor wind's wild flute,

My first note was a muted root,

A tremor felt, not truly heard,

Deep in the loam, without a word.

A tiny fist, a shard of night,

Unfurling towards imagined light.

Encased in brown, a sleeping spark,

Awaiting dawn within the dark.

The husk, my world, a fragile sphere,

Pressed close by earth, both damp and dear.

A muffled pulse, a patient sigh,

A coded dream beneath the sky

I’d never seen. The moisture crept,

A softening kiss where secrets slept.

The pressure built, a silent strain,

Against the walls of dark’s domain.

Then… crack. Not loud, a fragile sound,

A shattering on yielding ground.

A pale, blind worm, a questing thread,

My anchor-point, my path to spread

Downward I drove, with urgent grace,

Seeking the cool, embracing space

Where hidden rivers gently seep,

My life’s first covenant to keep.

And upward now! A slender shoot,

Bearing the burden of the root,

Pushing aside the crumbling clay,

Greeting the dim, expectant grey

That filtered down. My head was bent,

Cradling leaves, tightly pent,

Two folded flags of tender green,

The first true colours ever seen

In my small world. A weight immense,

The simple act of breaking hence

From primal sleep. The air felt strange,

A vastness promising to change.

Oh, the immense and patient ache

Of pushing through, for heaven’s sake!

The grit that scraped my tender skin,

The stones that blocked the way within

The earth’s dark labyrinth. The chill

That threatened nascent strength to still.

The doubt – a worm more fierce than soil –

Whispering of fruitless toil:

"Lie down. Give in. The dark is deep.

Why strive? Why climb? Why break your sleep?

The sun is far, the wind is cold,

Your fragile form is soon controlled."

But deep within, a coded fire,

A fierce, unyielding, pure desire,

Burned brighter than the fear could dim –

The ancient song, the sacred hymn

Writ in my cells: "Grow. Seek the light.

Unfurl your being, brave and bright.

This ache is purpose, sharp and keen.

This struggle is what makes you green."

So, inch by stubborn, gritty inch,

I felt the darkness start to flinch.

The grey grew warmer, tinged with gold,

A story yet to be unfold.

Then… sudden, sharp, a blinding kiss!

A fierce, astounding, liquid bliss!

The Sun! Not filtered, dim, or grey,

But poured in floods of molten day!

It bathed my head, my folded crown,

It melted weariness right down.

I drank it in with every pore,

Craving this light forevermore.

My cotyledons, stiff and pale,

Unfurled like sails to catch the gale

Of purest energy. They spread,

My tiny table, sun-imbued,

Translating gold to vital food.

A miracle! To take the fire

And build myself ever higher!

The wind arrived – not gentle then –

A roaring beast beyond my ken,

That lashed and shook my slender frame,

A cruel, relentless, testing game.

I bent. I trembled. Roots held fast,

Anchored in lessons from the past

Beneath the soil. I learned to yield

With grace, a strength that would not shield

Me from the challenge, but instead

Made pliant every shoot and thread.

The rain, a battering, cold force,

Washed clean my upward, striving course,

And filled the earth where roots could drink

Deep resilience, link by link.

I felt the seasons shift and turn,

The warming soil where grubs would churn,

The busy tread of ants so small,

The patient glide of slugs that crawl.

The moon’s cool gaze, a silver balm,

The star-strewn sky’s majestic calm.

I heard the robin’s morning call,

The cricket’s chirp as dusk would fall,

The rustle-talk of leaves nearby –

Tall elders reaching for the sky.

Their whispered wisdom, deep and old,

Of storms endured and winters cold,

Of bud and bloom and fruit grown sweet,

Of roots entangled, strong, complete.

Now taller, stronger, day by day,

My stem finds purpose in the fray.

True leaves emerge, serrated, bright,

Capturing ever more sunlight.

A network builds, a vascular stream,

Fulfilling that first buried dream.

The song matures – it’s not just strife,

But rooted joy in having life,

In pushing boundaries, seeking space,

In weathering time with patient grace.

It’s in the sap’s ascending flow,

The whispered secrets roots bestow

To fungal threads, a hidden net,

Where sustenance and aid are met.

It’s in the bud that starts to swell,

A promise only time can tell.

For soon… oh soon! The climax nears!

Not just survival through the years,

But culmination! Buds grow tight,

Swollen with potential, bright

Against the blue. Then, petal by petal,

A trembling sigh, a sacred metal

Unfolds: a flower, bold and fair,

Perfuming the expectant air!

My silent song bursts forth in bloom,

Defying darkness, shattering gloom!

A beacon raised for bee and breeze,

A vibrant hymn among the trees.

The seedling’s struggle finds its voice,

In radiant colour, we rejoice!

Then comes the fruit, the heavy seed,

Containing everything I’ll need

To start the cycle once again,

Released to sun, or wind, or rain.

The circle closes, yet expands,

Rooted deep in shifting sands

Of time. My song becomes the earth,

A testament to humble birth

And boundless growth. It’s in the sigh

Of forests reaching for the sky,

In every blade of greening grass,

In life that surges as we pass.

The seedling’s song is never done –

It’s Earth’s own heartbeat, near the sun.

Short Summary:

"The Song of the Seedling" traces the profound journey from dormant potential buried in darkness to triumphant bloom. It voices the seedling's intimate struggles: the immense pressure of germination, the relentless push through resistant soil towards an unseen light, the battle against doubt, harsh elements (wind, rain, cold), and physical limitations. The poem celebrates key transformations: the first taste of sunlight, the unfurling of cotyledons, the growth of true leaves, and the development of a strong vascular system. It highlights the interconnectedness with the environment – roots seeking water, leaves capturing sun, communication with other plants and creatures. Ultimately, the seedling's perseverance culminates in flowering and fruiting, symbolizing the fulfillment of its purpose and the continuation of life's cycle. The song is revealed as a universal hymn of resilience, growth, silent communication, and the enduring, interconnected pulse of life itself.