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Thank You for the Mustard Seed

My father gave me a mustard seed
Entombed in a crystal sphere.
It hung from a chain around my neck
As a promise of rescue when I felt fear.

It’s what I had wanted, was dying for
This portal to hope in a charm.
Oh I was young and didn’t know
Trinkets don’t keep me from harm.

My necklace of hope was lost in the years
As the message it brought was too.
I wasn’t aware that the seed still lived
And from my parents grew.

Sweet Jesus you said my miniscule prayer
Could move mountains and save us all.
That small belief turned out as a thief
Of an naive child’s doleful call.

My pleas never came to pass, oh lord
Those avés so pitifully sought.
I’d prayed as well as I possibly could,
Just as I thought I’d been taught.

I ask not redemption, lamb of my youth
Tho’ relic and faith displaced.
My anchor was sown when given to life
And holds sure as any grace.

Symbols are symbols and stories are old.
Sometimes the lessons are lost when they’re told.
As was with the given mustard seed
The charm is gone – but I live through their deed.

© September 2, 2002
Kathryn McL. Collins

Matthew 17:20 ~ And Jesus said unto them, "Because of your unbelief: for verily I say unto you, if ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain. Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you".

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