Potential

Seeds are not pretty. I have never heard someone stop and remark, "what a lovely seed!"

Seeds are usually withered and dark, small and insignificant.

All of their beauty is tightly bound up where no one can see, hidden on the inside.

But, oh!

When the sun comes, and the rain, the seed cracks open and reveals its true self.

Tendrils of green and white arise, roots and stalk and leaves,

The seed, the shell, long forgotten

In the beauty of new life.

 

You and I, everyone of us like a seed

contains a pent-up beauty, a life within a shell

Whether a stark beech, or a fragrant sage,

Hungry for the sun and thirsting for the rain

We still cling to our shell, like only humans can

Hiding our life, our beauty, our potential.