Cry for a seed to grow


My cry sounds like silence.
It is more than empty;
More than that of the void that screams.

It is a lullaby of peace
That I’ve been wanting
Long before this – solace.

What could be the undergrowth?
From the words sweep by the winds,
Overtaking what has been there all along.

What could be the fruit?
From the seeds of the past,
If I’m not to water it with my cry.

What could I be?
If I don’t know silence,
Without you who gave such seeds.


circle-cropped (2)Kyle Patrick De Guzman is currently teaching General Education courses in his alma mater, Far Eastern University. He was recently announced as the 1st Placer and Editors’ Choice in the Poetry Category of PUP College of Communication iCOMMUNICATE 17: Invictus Literary Contest and had his work published in their magazine.

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