Fallow

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

abandonment.

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" (www.hiraethpress.com)