3 result(s) for Planting The Seed Of Resistance Poems.
These poems are completely original - not copied from anywhere. Feel free to use them however you want.
Hands in the Soil
We knelt where the dry earth had long been broken,
where weeds of oppression had grown thick and tall,
and no single hand could tear them from the ground.
But one by one the hands came, calloused and bare,
the grandmother, the child, the stranger from the next town,
each gripping a root and pulling with a stubborn love.
The soil gave up its hold, slow then sudden,
and we piled the bitter stalks in a heap of shared labor,
wondering why we ever thought the field was lost.
Now we sow what we carry in our open palms:
seeds of courage, seeds of truth, seeds of a harvest
that will feed the children who are yet to come.
The Patient Seed
Beneath the frost, a seed lies still,
its dreams wrapped tight in frozen soil,
it does not rage against the chill,
it only waits, and bears the toil.
The wind may howl, the rain may fall,
the world may bury it in gray,
yet something in its heart stands tall,
a quiet vow to find the day.
So plant it deep where no one sees,
and let the dark grow strong and wide,
for resistance often starts with keys
of patience, held and kept inside.
One morning, when the light is right,
the seed will crack and reach for air,
and all the silence of the night
will break in green beyond despair.
Stubborn Green
They poured the concrete thick and gray,
and strung the wire along the way,
but nothing reads a fence as law
to roots that dream of light and thaw.
A seed was dropped by careless wind,
it found a crack and settled in.
It drank the rain that no one owned,
and pushed its way through steel and stone.
The barbs drew blood on tender stems,
yet still it rose through rust and gems
of broken glass and dust and rot,
refusing to be trained or taught.
So let the wire rattle, cold,
and let the watchmen count their gold.
For every sprout that splits the bind
teaches the soil what hope can find.
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