January 24, 2022
A flower blooms in springtime, it sprouts up through the ground.
The seedling stays in darkness beneath the winter cold
Searching for the sunshine, where only mud is found.
The longing breaks the seedling’s shell, it’s heart can then unfold.
The roots find food and nourishment, the tiny seedling grows.
It pushes up through stubborn sod, keeps reaching for the light.
It seems to me a miracle, a tiny seedling knows
To make its way up through the ground, it’s only known the night.
Some seeds they never seek the light, they never seem to bloom.
They live instead below the ground where they prefer to stay.
I do not know why they would choose the cold, the dark, the doom.
Inside the darkness void of light, they soon will rot, decay.
Perhaps they need a helping hand to help them see the choice.
Someone to share the words of love, with kind and caring voice.