Flourish And Nurture

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My father and son

Past.
Present.
Future.

Let’s look a little deeper.

Concepts meant
To be disassembled,
To reinvent seeing once again.

Not separate entities,
United in various degrees.

Root.
Trunk.
Leaves.

Root; the depths unseen.
Planted seeds in assorted fields
Growing in different seasons.
The past; in time to arrive

At the trunk; the present.
From here above ground,
Presence allowing
For indepth contemplation.
Core of the earth,
To sky unlimited.

Future; not a static moment.
Constant shedding and budding
Of foliage. Not simply decorating.
The trunk and branches.
Fruit and seeds propelling
Evolution as it was intended.

Root, trunk, leaves
In absolute harmony,
With rotational spin and gravity.

Sun and moon
Working in unison
So rhythmically.

Human, oh human
What a plethora of seeds.
We have witnessed greed.

But so many other seeds planted
By various degrees of
Love’s greater understanding and needs.

Everything is a variable.
What then is the constant?

Ascertain from all the crops
By the work of your
Own unique preparation
To foster the growth

Which is the culmination
Of a life in full celebration.

I have cut the umbilical cord.
I have dispersed my father’s ashes.

Time…
How precious is time?
To know the divine.

Seeds of the most valuable
In nature,
Implanted so long ago
By the master gardener.

Giving rise to have the courage
To see deeper.
Blessing of the highest caliber.
So much yet to discover.

In those vast fields
Growing and watching
Miracle of living
Continually unfolding.

No greater feeling
Then nurturing
The dearest gift given.

Atul Ranchod

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