Pollination

Pollination

Time.
Time to be dipped in a soil, ripened for gestating
Time, to bask in an underground sun.

Time.  To linger for a while,
Hibernating .  Waiting, for just the right moment,
The right time
To peak one wall's surface
To a dying danger of the light,
Leaving one wall forever behind

Til death once more.

Where once I was intangible, without senses
  Now there is a world I am surrounded by,
And a river that runs close, even though I fear as all the other flowers and weeds,
Just when a rain won't come.

My death to be by the nature of that which I thrive of;
    The Sun.
Mighty Odious Body
  Of everything pervading in me.
  Grieving over, retribution a harmony
Of time lapses
Quadrants shaking loose in dimensional gaps
Jumps between portholes in time.

Time, my Love,
  Time.

Spiraling upwards towards a fray
Onward I bloom, til I turn downward one day,
And away from the sky, oh my beloved blue sun
And towards a curve once more.

Beloved dance
A motion of math, the Fibonacci Sequence
My core vibration outlasting all days and nights
Til at last,I wilt.

I lived my life, full, entangled
Drenched, and parched
Dreading Summers,
And Warful Winters
And Blooming again,
Like a Scotland Spring.
  It was all I could ever ask for.

And so I lived.  Perishing still,
  Downward I go,
Returning once more

To the wall of the underground.