On Leading the Singing in Primary
by Darlene Young, finalist for Deseret Dramatic Recognition Award 2008
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They bob like blossoms in the breeze,
and I, the sun, hold love in my face
and sing to the bouncing, bumpy mass of them.
They dance, mouthing words they barely hear.
Surely, though, they feel the warmth—
see their upturned faces open wide?
I’m planting songs like pollen in their hearts.
Maybe someday, seasons hence, when rain
and cold have cracked the soil, spirit
words will be embodied, ripe:
blood-red fruit that sways in rushing wind.
*
This poem copyright 2009 by Darlene L. Young. I love to share my work! Feel free to pass it around, but please make sure you copy it in its entirety and include my name. Thank you!
