The Seedlings: Mental Health Poem by Prathami

The Seedlings: a Mental Health Poem

by Prathami

Grow with me,

I too have

Just awoken

From the marshy sleeps

That sick minds fall into,

I am emblazoned in flame now,

I deal in life easily

As a tree does my oxygen -

I herald the coming of a new Era,

The Age of Health.

I am blaspheming, I revolt

The constructs of the mind,

I am who I set out to be,

The darling ducks will

Peck at you, forgive them,

They are but quackers.

One day, you will realize with me

The Truths I have been chasing,

A portrait of glory and pain.

I set clear these contours,

These outlines as how the spoons

And knives must behave to the world;

They cannot curve around,

They cannot banter, they must

Only serve as animal labor -

The house is empty of warmth,

There is only the deep sigh of disturbance

The air is so cool and settled, the dust

Hanging like witches, suspended.

What mystical sense do I presume of this?

I don't know, it is not important.

I only know that I am rising,

I am being lifted a lamp,

I shall speak;

My teeth shall separate, and

Out rolls dawn,

The language of flowers.

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