Lynn White

Seed Shells 

The first seeds were sown a long time ago.

When these small seed shells burst open

they were scattered locally.

They grew patchily at first, in Palestine, in Israel,

in Lebanon and throughout the Arab world.

There were only little streams to irrigate

and fertilise them, so they often failed to thrive.

But that was then. 

Now the shells have grown bigger

and the seeds have flown further.

Further and further.

And the streams have grown wider and longer.

And more nutritious. 

When the seed shells have burst in this century,

they found ground that was even more fertile.

So more and more has come under cultivation,

irrigated and fertilised now from rivers, 

rivers of blood.

So well irrigated,

so well nurtured and tended that

the patches of brown soil became rare indeed.

But there were some.

Later seeds spread wider over Gaza.

As larger seed shells broke and splintered

they found and colonised new areas 

outside the brown patches

where it was now easy to germinate and thrive.

Now even trees could grow there and send out suckers

into the newly bloodied green places. 

Soon there was a wood with dense undergrowth.

The rivers were torrents now

bloody torrents

with plenty of irrigation channels.

Now more seeds have flown. Ever bigger

seed shells are exploding and unloading 

their crop of giant seeds.

The wood is a forest now,

a forest of giants now spreading their own seed

in the already fertile ground, 

spreading it ever more thickly,

growing ever taller.

A forest of hate,

a writhing, spitting jungle

that we are unable to cut down

First published in Guide to Kulchur 2016

Wild Fruit

I like the wild berries best.

Juice spilling over,

Each burst

staining my tongue purple

or my lips red.

Each one a new sensation.

A little harder to come by,

than the bland clones,

the cultivars.

A bit more of a struggle.

And, it must be said,

not always sweet.

One never knows

with these wild fruits.

With each taste comes

a surprise.

Spit out the sour,

take in the sweet.

Such joy!

Oh yes,

the wild berries are the best.

First Published in The Dawntreader, Summer 2015

Squeeze

Don’t squeeze too firmly

you never know what will emerge

from inside solid walls

and even caring hands can be destructive.

But sometimes

something beautiful can emerge

from that which is destroyed.

So sometimes

it’s good to take a chance

give a squeeze

and wait

and see

the new growth burst into being.

First published in Visual Verse, December 2022