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| USDA photo by Scott Bauer, public domain. |
Back before seedless fruits,
I knew that swallowing
watermelon seeds meant
watermelon would grow
in my own abdomen
to my fear and delight.
I knew that rolling down
the car’s rear window and
tossing an apple core
made me little Johnny
Appleseed—traveler,
farmer and troubadour.
I knew that seeds had con-
sequences, happenings,
births and restoration—
seeds were necessary—
and I guessed a fairy
godmother changed my seeds—
the black watermelon
ones I swallowed—into
whys, hows, and wheres—into
curiosity.
Where
had they gone otherwise?
What can the seedless grow?
Seeds pop questions into
my senses where they talk
to brain cells, travel through
fingers, words, sound waves, books
and computer programs—
and meet newer questions.
Seeds swallowed grow poets,
lovers and questioners
who toss seeds from windows
to newer breeders of
curiosity.
So.
What can the seedless grow?
A sixling (6 x 6 x 6), posted for Shanyn's Poetics ~ Seeding at dVerse Poets Pub.
Copyright © 2014 S.L.Chast
ha. i remember believing i might poop a watermelon...smiles....
ReplyDeletewhat can grow unless we put seed...i would hate to think of being seedless
or fruitless...good for nothing else but the fire...
I think this is one of my favorites. I've often worried about seeds.
ReplyDeleteA simply wonderful poem that reflects many's thought but we didn't have the words. You did. Thank you.
Imagination and lots of it, I want to say ~ I specially like this part:
ReplyDeleteknew that seeds had con-
sequences, happenings,
births and restoration—
Have a good week Susan ~
I had not heard that watermelons might grow in your stomach.. what a terrible thought :-) but I do love the thought of all the seeds a poet might throw out can grow into new words..
ReplyDeleteSeeds: the tiny things that have the power to grow or destroy a civilisation.
ReplyDeletewonderful.....great lines...liked the closing lines so much.
ReplyDeleteSeeds swallowed grow poets,
lovers and questioners
who toss seeds from windows
to newer breeders of
curiosity. So.
What can the seedless grow?
In our culture, it's the apple seeds you swallow which make an apple tree grow in your tummy (I always did that anyway, cos I loved eating them). Such a great metaphor - as a teacher/lecturer, sowing the seeds of curiosity is one of the most valuable and satisfying things we can do...
ReplyDeleteAs a child, I used to wonder whether the seeds of the fruit I ate would grow into trees. Now I guess I am more careful of what effect the words I plant might produce.
ReplyDeleteLove how your seeds turned curiosity to questions.
ReplyDeleteI loved your emailed comment when I asked if any images came to you:
DeleteDyche Designs Studio
8:20 PM (10 minutes ago)
. . . as in what can the seedless grow?
OLD!, he, he, he.
oh I like that question - what can the seedless grow? Poetically it has a depth that begs discussion. And how sad that we grow plants not meant to reproduce on their own :-( I love it when store apples and grapefruits sprout from their own seeds, in defiance it seems, and random things grow when everything says they should not. Great piece.
ReplyDeleteThis is delightful, Susan!
ReplyDeletewe used to sit and eat watermelon and try to spit the seeds the farthest from our porch - we were terrible, not understanding that air power triumphed over pucker power. But we were game and hardy seed spewers. Thanks for reminding me of those long ago times.
ReplyDeleteSeedless is an oxymoron of course; all seedless fruit has very small ingestible seeds, hardly noticeable until you eliminate them. Nice use of the prompt. At four I worried about swallowing seeds; at five I had wised up.
ReplyDeleteYou were an early bloomer!
DeleteGreat response to the prompt. What happens to those seeds, are we plants of curiosity? Homo sapiens, indeed, the monkey mind race. When I lose something, I pull out the same old joke about it getting spat out into the universe like a watermelon seed. My way of griping against Fate, I guess. But then the universe always responds to my gripe thus? Why not you?)
ReplyDeleteAs you likely know, Susan, I am an avid gardener; so this poem has great appeal to me. I plant heirlooms and buy non GMO, organic, locally-grown whenever possible. Of course, your metaphor is not lost on me either. Nurturing our personal truth, depth, soul and inner growth/evolution is necessary for the betterment of the world.
ReplyDeleteGreat metaphor...so much of what I write comes from seeds.
ReplyDeleteSeeds swallowed grow poets,
ReplyDeletelovers and questioners
who toss seeds from windows
to newer breeders of
curiosity.
That is right! Seeds are the ones that procreate and give way to abundance of ideas numbers and myriads of activities. Poets are just as expected to be found in the numbers! Wonderful write Susan!
Hank
I found the seeds you scattered once
ReplyDeleteGathered them up
Carried them
Let them germinate slowly
Across days
And continents
Travelling with the traveler
Like pebbles in pockets
Waiting
Weighting the dreamer
Keeping windblown feet
Grounded
Until fertile ground
And time for planting