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The seed falls silent in the yielding ground,
A promise whispered barely to be found.
No trumpet fanfare hails its humble plight,
Just earth's dark embrace and the fading light.

We watch it vanish seemingly in vain,
No instant blossom answers sun or rain.
The days stretch onward, seasons turn and fade,
And life's quick dramas on the stage are played.

But deep within, a patient work takes hold,
A root descends, a story to unfold.
Unseen, unheard, the tiny tendrils creep,
While we forget the secrets that they keep.

Then comes the stirring, a faint emerald hue,
A fragile reaching for the sky's deep blue.
We marvel then at life's persistent art,
Ignoring still the role we played a part.

For in that seed a choice was made with care,
A bitter husk or fruit beyond compare.
The sower's hand with purpose or with whim,
Determined then the harvest dark or dim.

So too our actions scattered through the years,
Like unseen kernels watered by our tears,
Or nurtured brightly by a joyful deed,
Plant silent futures, planting what we need.

The harsh word spoken like a poisoned grain
May lie dormant then sprout in bitter pain.
The gentle kindness sown with open hand
Can bloom in solace felt across the land.

No act is orphaned drifting on the breeze,
Each one takes root among the silent trees
Of consequence where time will have its say,
And bring the fullness of a future day.

So when the bounty rises rich and wide,
Or when the thorns our eager fingers chide,
Let us remember in the joy or smart,
The ancient wisdom held within the heart:

We reap the harvest of the seeds we sow,
In every action, future fruits will grow.
The soil remembers every touch and trace,
And life reflects the choices we embrace.

©bfa041025

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