Wednesday, October 26, 2011


Plowed and harrowed,
but left unseeded.

What an odd and exhausting
period of rejuvenation
this is.

The dark rich soil of me longs
to support new growth,
to feed Life-sustaining nourishment
to a soul-starved world.

Oh please,

Tell me what nutrients
I still need claim
to be deemed worthy of seed.

Kernels of hope fly past
in crow beaks
but there is never an
effort made to plant.

Rain comes,
and the Sun shines
deliciously upon my hungry body
but I have nothing
to bequest in reciprocity.

So deeply rooted
are my woes
amidst this positively-intended

I wonder in the dark hours,

Is it the chemistry of tears
you seek?

And I offer electrolyte salts
in streams.

Still I remain fallow.


Hafiz tells me
a divine seed, the crown of destiny,
is hidden and sown on an ancient, fertile plain
that I hold title to.

How then does one reveal the
fore-ordained Gift of Self?

Dowsing with willow brings
me to the core:

Embryo and endosperm.

In essence, it is me
feeding the offering
of sustenance that
is myself.

I am entitled to give.

These sweet tears of joy
I absorb,
and swell.

And swell.

So this is what it feels like
to break free
from the hardness
and rise!

© 2011-2013/Jamie K. Reaser
Published in "Sacred Reciprocity: Courting the Beloved in Everyday Life" (

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