The Seed

If the fruit you’re meant to eat

was planted long before your feet,

then why do you fear it won’t arrive,

or that your chance will not survive?

The seed lies quiet in the ground,

its roots dig deep without a sound.

It bends and sways with wind and rain,

it feels the sun, it feels the pain.

It does not rush, it does not fight,

it grows in darkness, waits for light.

Through storms and shadows, it will rise,

stretching slowly toward the skies.

What’s meant for you will find its way,

it cannot be lost, it cannot stray.

It might take time, it might delay,

but it will come, come what may.

So tend your heart, and tend your soul,

let patience teach you how to grow.

Water your roots, and love your ground,

for blessings come when least they’re found.

The wind may howl, the nights may chill,

yet still the fruit ripens, still.

It may arrive in ways unseen,

in quiet moments in between.

Trust the timing, trust the path,

even when life feels cold or harsh.

For what is yours, though slow to show,

will bloom for you, will surely grow.

So breathe, be still, and do your part,

hold hope gently in your heart.

For life unfolds in its own rhyme,

and fruit comes forth in perfect time.

-dmnd