seed

There once was a wood
where glories of the earth could grow.
The soil was rich with life
for both thorns and beauty and strife.

There was a wandering rain
which showered thus a spot
where there lie a long forgotten seed,
which beauty it begot.

How is it that this seed of long ago
had yet to sprout or grow?

Days of toil it underwent;
days of clouds and days of hope,
days of agonizing torment.
And thus the seed shriveled inside
dead and dried up.
Many rains came and went,
but the thorns rightly smothered it.
Sun’s bright rays danced over the seed
but it’s depth they could not feed.

There was a compassionate rain
which showered thus a spot
where there lie a long forgotten seed,
which beauty it begot.
The rain sank down in
to every space in, thus, a spot,
whose beauty is no longer to be forgot.

The seed was inclined to retreat,
but the rain held her in defeat.
What glorious shimmers of heaven tears
have begun to rinse away her fears.
In, thus, a spot,
whose beauty will ne’er be forgot.