Garden by Sean Stewart


Seeds are planted in barren soil

by rough tattered hands,

while dreaming of outgrowing

This foreign land


Each drop of blood, each bead of sweat, each fallen tear

is inherited by the soil…

Inherited by the next generation

and carried like heavy straw on a mule’s back


The soil weeps

simultaneously with the rain

that seeps into seeds

somehow absorbing the tradition of our people


Seeds begin to germinate,

rising from a sunken place

Emerging from inferior status

and taking their rightful place


A garden grows in the dark soil

deeply rooted inside of us

Bearing fruitful offspring

that blossom into beautiful

Kings and Queens


Harvest the fruit of your

labor and preserve your fertile soil,

cultivating food for thought

Feeding the entire village

Through your garden


Creative works (literature, art and culture) emerging from Nigeria.

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