Semilla: The Allegory of the Seed

(Pronounced seh-ME-yah) Putting this poem together has meant a lot to me. As you may tell from the topics I commonly address in my poetry, I am enamored with various kinds of myth, legend, and allegory. To that end, I’ve wanted to create my own story full of morals and deeper meaning. The below is my first attempt at such a mythology. Enjoy.


It came from the sky
From the wind-battered West
To the earth it would land as a gift
And as it would spread
Bringing life to the dead
It was there that Semilla found rest.

The beginnings, as always
Were wrought with such trials
And Semilla’s long future, unclear.
But along came a mind
Who would treat it in kind
And hold Semilla’s growth, very dear.

“But this gift that I have
That I watch, here and now
Is a fraction of when fully grown.
It can’t just be mine
For its nature’s divine
And the world as a whole must be shown.”

And so came the spreading
Of Semilla’s great gift
So the world as a whole could then see
While some did come
A good number struck dumb
Of the visions of Earth soon to be.

And then came the building
Of this beautiful world
Centered on the precepts of the Just.
But their visions, no match
As their ideas did hatch
In each other, they did learn to trust.

The buildings were varied
As they circled around
The glorious great gift from the sky
And the patchwork, a draft
Of the world we would craft
Brought its builders and dreamers to cry.

“Is this sweetness not bitter
This pleasure, not pain
For we crafted a drop of our dreams?
But it took us too long
And our forebears, all wrong
Their lives, now reduced just to screams.”

And so came the effort
To raise up a beacon
For Semilla to be seen by all
They worked ‘round the clock
As it came to no shock
As the world all around, it did fall.

Part Babel, part Ark
Part shade in the grass
Semilla’s growth brought blooming of mind
And once came the great tower
So did its great power
To reshape their nature: humankind.

Semilla was ready
For the turning of time
And its folk, for the dawn of an age
And as their minds grew
So too many knew
That one day they would produce a sage.

Whether far-flung or native
Young child or full grown
The nature of the sage was obscure.
All one could discern
From all they did learn
Were but two words: SEMILLA ENDURE

Puzzled were they
When the sun slowly rose
With a lunatic marking the day
Speaking language unknown
Never rambling alone
‘Til Semilla’s rich center did sway.

Many came running
To see what could shake
Semilla to its heart and its core.
But when they all came
They were all full of shame
When the sage brought lost light to the fore.

“Just look at yourselves
With your world all alone
So detached from the whole human race
When the rest fell apart
You thought yourselves smart.
But to just be a lifeboat? Disgrace!

Many came here to learn
Others sought to be safe
In the pinnacle of human craft.
But the truth is, life’s scary
You can’t always be wary
One can’t live if that life’s on a raft.

This city was born
From a love of the light
And the life of the pure knowledge, you live.
But with knowledge, the way
Is to keep it astray
Always wandering, this gift you must give.

For perfection in life
Is impossible still
When humanity suffers out there.
No grand human being
Would ignore the world’s pleading
And go on, living without a care.

Or did you not know
That the Earth didn’t die
But the world, it just all went to hell
While the rest of us linger
They all point the finger
To opulence, this hollow old shell.

But don’t misunderstand
For I come not of spite
But rather I do seek this gift pure
Not for me, right here
But to give to my peer
So you can, sweet Semilla, endure.”

It all became clear
In the sage’s bold words
How the world as whole could be bright.
Each held in their heart
As they all did depart
Semilla, the cure to Earth’s plight.

For Semilla in truth
Never needed a city
Just soil all around it to grow.
So when your eyes they get bright
As you learn from the light
Pass your knowledge for others to know.

It came from the sky
From the wind-battered West
To the earth it would land as a gift
And as it would spread
Bringing life to the dead
It was there that Semilla found rest.


2 comments on “Semilla: The Allegory of the Seed

  1. […] guest to the pockets of mind, Whether light or just scary, I assure you I’m kind. These musings are the flashlight for the otherwise […]


  2. […] thought to plant into foreign land And drafts to fix and words revise For I truly only trust your eyes To […]



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