POEM: CHIA

An ode to chia beginnings
Before consumption
With protective enclaves
And premeditated luncheon

Brim the heart of the gardener
And the belly of the beloved
With faceted felicity
In a water glove

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I began writing this poem without reading the post explaining the image. I knew the little brown spots were seeds and figured the bowed pattern in the back was on a piece of metal.

The first poem I wrote went like this...

My issue with Christmas
Is the focus on gifts
For in the unwrapping
We've lessened the nymphs

One flies in the breaths
Of sharing time
No one is greater
In thought body or mind

After writing my book and posting tons of poems on Steemit, I have learned that any artistic endeaver is somewhat deceitful. From the outside, someone may see a painter, poet, maker, or baker and think that their inner energy is what is fueling whatever they make.

The true beauty of art is it not only gives one energy to create, but it also prepares the creator and empties them so energy can be transmitted to others through future creations.

The process of one prepares many for prosperity.

And the prosperity I speak of comes from what seems to be nothing and it provides a rich feeling.

The feeling is rich due to the resources it gives to help people turn a page or get perspective on life.

It is rich because you get to possess the resulting inspirationand use it to create opportunity to create in the future.

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The initial unused poem about Christmas helped me release something that was blocking this CHIA poem I would be pleased to share. The second poem came after reading the post description a few times and remembering my connection to chia seeds (anyone remember the Cha Cha Cha Chia commercial?) and the times I've grown chia sprouts.

Seeing a dry seed create a protective bubble around itself is a magical process. A similar thing happens to onions that have enough resources in a bulb to start a new plant without water or dirt.

It is from that knowledge of chia nature and that this poem came to be.

In the past, I've forced metaphors into my poetry due to my admiration for potent metaphors, but the "water glove" came in an organic way and popped in my head as I finished the poem.

In the first paragraph I originally wrote "Before they are consumed." I wanted to avoid passive verbs and remembered the Penny Dreadful reference to tuberculosis. In the show, they called that disease consumption. Anyone with consumption coughed up blood and died a horrible death as their was no cure for this particilar disease at that time. In this poem, however, the seed coughs up a protective gel.

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Image source: @everlove