Sow

I'll till this land 'til I become it
In ashes.

I plant rows of roses for my mother-
        A featherweight unfurling of clichés
        Wedding thorns to keep them closer

I'll sow random seeds for both my brothers-
        Mysteries unraveling under cover
        Out blooms infinity with a drop of water

And then come all the weeds to be my father-
        Drawing light to slowly suffer
        He grows and spreads from out of nowhere

Through beating sun and barren winters--through arid earth and fruitless venture
I'll till this wasteland for the future
So that my sons may know much greener pastures