The Seed and the Sea

Upon the high seas of despair and doubt
there floats a mustard seed amongst the waves.
The soil it seeks but finds not to sprout.
For shelter it finds not in rocks or caves
Yonder shores seem to only be a dream
As the tempest winds blow against its will,
the storm yields not to bleak hopes and esteem
Adrift in darkness its soul filled with chill
But every squall in time must subside
and through the current its path be bound
Gently swayed, the seed driven by the tide
The sway of the trees are a joyous sound
    And upon the gentle beaches finds land
    Its roots become buried within the sand.

Authors' note:

I do apologize if this one is a little rough, I might go back and explore this concept later.  This was my hand at attempting to write a sonnet which admittedly, structured poetry really isn't my forté, however I am working on changing that.  I will probably revisit this concept again sometime.

A Walk Along the Suwannee

Yesterday I took a walk along the Suwannee
Ye great river that bends into shallow swamps and deep crystal springs
Stumps of old live oaks speak to the cypress knee
And tell the story of the warrior Osceola, the most honourable of the Seminole kings
The ferns told me of his many feats, and his Native American pride
The story of a failed war so bravely fought
Willows whisper to the tales of the many who died
Massacred by the government, neglected… taunted
And the Earth tells the tale of Native greats
On the banks of the Suwannee
Were so many met their fate