How strange
these seeds
they hang
suspended
down high
up low
be sightless
be soundless
still
swaying to
and fro
they come
they came
stop
watching and
waiting and
muscles tensed
ready for
liquid
poor quench
full hunger
grain drops
drops pour
slowly
slower they
turn about
unmoving and
unfeeling and
living
barely breathing
bated breath
beating veins
cocked back
waiting
hiding out
plain view
prisons of
peace.
