Where Love is From

Where Love is From

I was once wandering through the woods

  venturing much further than I ever had before.

The trees got dark,

the branches thick

leaving me not much desire to go on.

It grew so dark

my eyes could hardly see the branches

  clawing at my flesh the spiders crawling

        down my back the serpents slithering

            around my feet, all bidding me

                                                to return

                      to where

I'm from.

            And then, with one step I was

cast into another world, one much different than the one I was just in.

My feet were graced by lush green grass

My skin blessed with the soothing warm of sunshine

My lungs freed by a clean Spring air.

A man met me there, all in white

a plow nearby, pulled by a large white horse.

He bid me welcome, a salutation of the kindest form.

What is this place? I asked of him

and with a smile

he did respond

This pointing at the expanse of plowed land

is where Love is grown.

Grown? I asked with much perplex

  As corn or tobacco or beans?  Surely that is not

where Love is from

From the Earth it is.  It comes

in large plants, stalks

thicker than the arm of a man, reaching taller

than any house.

How is it you harvest it, then?

            We do not.  When the plant is ready, the seeds

blow across the land, farther

than the eye can see, blowing lazily

along the Winds.  That is

where Love is from.