The Conception
A seed
That didn't choose to be buried
Begins covered and in darkness
Its first commission is struggle
To get out of itself
To get out of the earth
Courageously destroying
And escaping
Its own protection
The Death
The abrasive dirt holds on
Not willing to let go but willing to ruin
"If I can't have you, no one can"
Stripping it bare of its covering
But what was meant to destroy, releases
Deep in the earth, the seed's defense
Becomes part of the the very soil
That will be taken up
Into its roots as nourishment
Death contributing to life
A necessary bravery
Once the shell is shed
There is no going back
It can never be a seed again
Risking demise in order to rise
The Birth
The bud awakens, original
To a strange and unfamiliar world
Growing furiously post mortem
As newness bursts through
The surface of the soil
Seeking that which will give it a covering
Leaves, Petals, Strength
Beauty
The Sun
An ever-moving magnet
Wherever it is in the sky
That is where the little bud leans
Captivated by concentrated vitality
Enchanted by absolute energy
That willingly draws it into another's yoke
Light
The Flower
Flourishing, dependent
Clothed by another
Its true self revealed, post struggle
Petals stretch and colors flow
As purpose explodes earth-side
The flower exists to seek the sun
And be veiled in its brilliance
Dear Reader, The Problem
If a seed never struggles
To break out of its shell
It will start to feel comfortable
Deep in the earth
Soon it won't remember
That it was supposed to be
Anything but a seed
It remains alone
Clinging to a covering that strangles
The seed's inevitable, unseen death
Produces nothing
Dear Reader, The Lesson
A seed is not meant to remain a seed
To inhabit its shell forever
Its purpose is fighting to die
Against itself
Against the unforgiving earth
Against the impulse to remain unchanged
The war to shed its skin results
In rising new
Yielding immeasurable fruit
Life that continues forever
Unshelled, unveiled
-Courtney Hutchinson
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