Seeds of Love
"Look," God said
As, being The Catalyst,
He pulled right out
The musty, swollen drawer of my Being
That I'd left to be neglected
For fear it should shame me
Or jam and stick.
"Look," He said,
"A packet of seeds.
Now… sow them."
And He indicated firmly once again
The creased and faded
Solitary pack
Of Sow-Me-And-Water-Me
In the guilty, dormant
Nagging gloom of a lost, forgotten corner
Which now had turned, in my panicked mind,
A starkly lit
And all-too-public spectacle…
But I was not reckoning
On the kind and delicate touch
Of His understanding love.
"Look," He said
As I tended a new fragility
And He watered the shoots
Of a fresh and promised life.