Sacred Seeds
Pine cones beckon me on Maine morning
Rising early, I head out to the dock
Inspired by the possibilities –
a gift, a sacred quest…
Gazing deeply into the new born day,
I scribble in my journal –
just words,
just lines…
Until I land on something sweet, or sentimental, or surprising
Seeds of an idea emerge
Waiting for me to discover its meaning
My meaning – my purpose – my truth
The Author's Purpose 
That is a lovely poem. I really felt like I was there with you. It felt cold outside! I like how you connected the pinecones with your idea seeds.
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Thank you, Andrea. I wrote that as a notebook entry, but when I reread it, I realized it was a poem. The freedom of free verse!
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Lovely, Laurie. And I always find it fascinating how more emerges as we think and ponder and explore something which initially appeared so simple. The pine cone is a bit like an onion!
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You’re right, Christie. I think Georgia Heard wrote something similar as a metaphor for her grandmother. Nature provides us with so many gifts.
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The power of three is one of my go-to strategies when I’m working with students who tend to write a lot. Three in a row of anything gives such a rhythm to writing, and your piece demonstrates it!
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Thank you, Melanie. I first learned about the power of three from Mary Ehrenworth. Although it’s a simple technique, it works.
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