Found Poetry Break – Farming Fertile Fields

Just a little poem about how words are always waiting to sprout if we take the time to cultivate them <3

FB Post 2.4.2021


AH HA ===

Poem Idea to completion to posting…

9minutes gotta be a record LOL

Farming Fertile Fields

What is the function of my words

To harm, to learn, to instruct

Are they written to scold to scorn

Or to remember

And to heal

Are we traipsing over solid ground

And tilling up its pain

Or are we digging up the bodies

So that they can be blessed

And laid to rest in peace

Have fallow fields been

Cursed or just left too long alone

Are they beyond redemption or

Do they simply need to be

Planted, Irrigated, Cultivated

Nurtured, Cradled, Protected

Can they be reclaimed

Restored

Rejoiced

The words are the fruits of the seeds

The fields are barren no more.

Author: Aminda

Well, that is the question, isn't it? What if I don't actually know who I am. I have things I do, things I like. but are they who I am? Who knows. But that's what I'm here to figure out. Will the real Aminda please stand up? (Not you Slim Shady) Here's how I identify right now: Peace - Love - Punk - Rainbows BoardGamePlayin SciFiWatchin' BookReadin' Doghavin' PunkRockin' Meditatin' Nerdy/Hippy/Geeky Bipolar/ADHD Humanist/Feminist/Atheist Bi-Sexual/They/Them Mama

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