The creeper
It sprang from beneath the dark earth
Upon the dark earth
Disillusioned by the light at first
That shone in the sky above
By day it watched its fellows
Wrapping above and below
Barks of trees, solitary logs, panes
of windows, always wanting support
By night it would dream
Of trees, of being tall, green and full
Of fruit, of the canopies that seemed
To decorate the sky & play with sunbeams
As days went by, it started to see
That behind the light, the sky was cloudy
That if ever it made it into a canopy
Its days would still be rainy & gloomy
Even after the strength getting there will need
So it started to dissociate from its dream
Now in its idle time at night
It would watch its fellows fight
To get to the nearest log in sight
Begging the gardener to place it right
And it began to fathom if it might
Make life easy to find a log to climb
It began to nurture the new dream
Started to source a site to lean
Slowly it began to crawl around
The way when born, its fellows it found
Began to resign to the fate of its kind
Dreamt now of only a support to find
As it crept along, it found a sturdy log
Standing upon the dark ground
It was elated, it bent closer to the earth
And reached out for the log
And reached out for the new dream
It had nurtured to camouflage the old dream
Now it was so close, it almost seemed real
Until a playful little kid appeared with a wheel
He sang as he raced the wheel
Until he crashed into the log
Our creeper wanted support of
The log lay on the dark earth
The creeper beneath, staring at the sky above
Wobbly, unstable and angry
It mustered all its strength to move
Away from the earth
Towards the light that shone above
And in that moment, it came to realize
That fate indeed was part of life
But fate too was made from dreams, real ones
And becoming a creeper wasn’t its dream at all.
So often, we give up our real dreams for easier ones, but fate sometimes leads us away from the latter. Behind the disappointment from that intrusion must lie the realization that there’s a real dream we must strive for.
Welcome to my blog, The Shooting Star. I’ve been called a storyteller, writer, photographer, digital nomad, “sustainability influencer,” social entrepreneur, solo traveller, vegan, sustainable tourism consultant and environmentalist. But in my heart, I’m just a girl who believes that travel – if done right – has the power to change us and the world we live in.
Congratulations on being a Blogadda Spicy Saturday Pick 🙂 Love the message that this poem conveyed and you explained in the end!
I quite identify with the analogy.
nice post.
GB
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just love this 🙂
very well written.. i liked the way you have explained the message through this story weaved nicely as a poem
beautiful…
Quite some time since I saw your blog.
That was a good one.
Time really flies dear. I also was that little lady just out of college, but i am seeing my next generation in that role now. difficult to believe so many years have passed since.
Merry Xmas.!
Beautiful poem
I absolutely loved it.
I am a big fan of your blog. I have read most of your articles. I love your soulful writing